The Myers House
by MyersgirlxXx
Summary: An independent girl moves into her own house. Little does she know, she's not alone. Michael Myers still lives hidden in the house. Will he kill her, or will he become obsessed with her? Takes place 2 years after Halloween 2. There was no explosion.
1. Chapter 1

The Myers House

**This story is strictly based off of John Carpenters' Halloween. Takes place 2 years after Halloween 2. I did change the ending, there was no explosion in the hospital. Michael got away, and Dr. Loomis is still alive. I do not own any of the Halloween characters. **

Today was going to be a long day. I'm moving into my own house for the first time. I've spent all week moving most of my clothes, toiletries, and kitchenware in. Luckily there was still some old furniture from the previous owners. I have thier Kithcen table, and the whole living room set. I'll probably replace it, because its all from the 60's. Not only is the style old, but its all dusty from years of abandonment.

Tonight is going to be the first night sleeping in the house. The kids down the street offered to help move in my bedroom furniture this morning, which was very sweet. It was so typical of my family and friends to not be here to help. They are never around for any of the important events in my life. That's why I'm moving so far away. I've always been the tough girl, who doesn't need anybodies help, or attention. I want to be alone. Which is why I'm moving in the "haunted house", I expect to be avoided. I've heard stories about the 6 year old boy killing his sister, escaping the institution 15 years later, and killing more people. They say he was shot, stabbed, and fell off of a balcony and got away. But I don't believe that's possible. Even if he did get away, he couldn't have lived through all of those injuries with out getting any medical attention in two years. Everyone but my mom new about the stories. I avoided telling her because she would overreact. She's always judging me, the last thing I need is for her to call me a freak.

As I threw the last bag into the back seat, the phone started to ring. I searched through my purse and picked up the phone.

"hello?" I said.

"Hey, Amy. It's Ben. Listen, I can't wait at the house for you. I gotta get home. I'm going to leave the realitor papers on the kitchen table for you to sign. I'll pick them up later. Okay?" He sounded nervous, like he was in a hurry to leave the house.

"Okay, Thank you." I was about to say something else, but then he cut me off by hanging up.

He was probobly nerveous about being alone. He sold me this house for practically nothing. Probobly because nobody was brave enough to buy it. All the neighborhood kids warned me about the boogeyman while they helped me move in. I just laughed and went along with it. It wasn't enough to scare me away. The far distance from my old neighborhood, the 10 minute drive to my job, and the unbeatable price of the house was enough to make me forget the stories. Besides, I may be a tiny girl, but I'm crazy. This boogeyman doesn't scare me! I laughed outloud at that thought as I drove to the house.

An hour and fourtyfive minutes went by, I was finally In my neighborhood. I past through the quiet town, with beautiful houses, and small town shops. I turned onto my street and saw colorful houses, with well kept lawns. Then I spotted my white, broken down house, with loose shedders, faded paint, and loose nails comming from the deck. It looked out of character compared to all of the other houses. I sighed at all of the work I needed to do with this house. Then I shook it out of my mind, I can't stress myself out. One step at a time. As I pulled into the driveway, I got a chill. Probobly from the excitement of beggining a new life. I grabbed my bags, and struggled my way to the door. I took my key, unlocked the door, and dropped everything once i got inside. The smell of dust, and old wood hit me in the face when I shut the door. I took a look around at the hallway that lead to the stairs, and the view into the kitch and living room. The walls had 60's wall paper, that was peeling down. The floor had old wooden tiles, the kitchen had old cabinets, and an outdated washing machine, and refrigerater. The kitchen table was a beautiful wooden oak table for 6 people. That would be the one thing I might keep. The couch was tan flanel that was covered in dust bunnies. The desks, and tables around it were chipped, and falling apart. I walked through the hall, into the kitchen. My stomache growled as I looked into the empty refrigerator.

Well, the first thing i got to do is go grocery shopping. I shut the refrigerator, grabbed my purse, and left. As i walked down the drive way to my car, I felt like somebody was watching me. I looked back at my house, and laughed as I rolled my eyes. 'Okay Amy, I thought you outgrew supersticion.' I said to myself. Then I drove off to Haddonfields' Grocery Market.

Two hours before Amy arrived, Ben was at the house, sorting the papers for her to sign. He heard noises in the basement, and became nerveous. He knew it was an old house, and the piping system wasn't to well. It was probobly just the pipes sqeaking from the water. Still he couldn't stay one more minute in that house. He dialed Amys' number.

Michael was at the basement stairs, looking through the crack of the opening door. He heard people walking around his house all week. Finally, someone was alone. He listened as the man spoke. He heard the man talk about how he was selling the house, and this young girl would be moving in. His fists' clenched. He had to get rid of this man, and this girl trying to take over his home. When the man hung up, Michael made his move.

Ben was about to call a cab. He jumped as the light went out in the living room. Every part of him wanted to get out of there. But his macho side told him to change the light bulb for Amy. It was the least he could do since he was selling her a haunted house. He knew there were some old light bulbs in the kitchen cabinet. He recalled seeing them as he showed his clients through the house. He took one, and warily walked into the living room, feeling his way to the lamp. Once he felt the lamp, he noticed that the bulb wasn't on tight enough. He twisted it, and the light went on. He jumped, as he saw a man wearing a white mask standing right infront of him. He knew who this was and knew he had to get out of here. He tried to run, but was frozen still. Michael presented his knife by raising it in the air. Bens' eyes grew wide, he tried to yell. But before he could, Michael stabbed his throat. He pulled the knife out, causing the body to fall limp on the floor with a thud.

Michael dragged the body through the sewers, he brought it all the way across town. Once it was far enough, he walked back to the house and stared into space for an hour. He heard small footsteps upstairs in the house. He walked up the stairs, and looked through the basement door. That's when he saw the intruder. He couldn't see every detail. But from what he could tell, she was a small, slim girl with light brown hair, and blonde streaks. He watched as she put her stuff down in his house, making it her own. He would have to get her out of here. He was about to kill her when she left. He watched her drive away. He wasn't upset that he had to wait for her to come back. Patience was his strongest trait. He waited 15 years in Smithes Grove sanitarium before he escaped. He went back into the sewers and patiently waited for her to come back.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**In this chapter you meet my favorite character from Halloween! I made Michael live in the sewers underneath his basement like it was in Resurrection, if you weren't able to tell yet. I do not own any of the Halloween characters.**

Two hours went by, I was finally on my way back from the grocery shop. I didn't make a list, so I had to take extra long in order to make sure I didn't forget anything. As I parked the car, I cringed at the thought of putting away the groceries. That was my least favorite part, the anticipation of eating, yet having to wait until everything is put away. I opened the trunk and grabbed all of the groceries, thankful that I lived alone and didn't have that many bags to carry. It was still hard to open the door though.

Michael was in the sewers when he heard a car engine pull infront of his house. She was back. He went up the stairs and looked through the door. The knob started turning, then Amy stumbled in with bags full of groceries. Michael was infuriated that she was unloading her groceries in HIS house. His eyes darkened with anger. He didn't want to attack her just yet. He would scare her first, like all of his main targets. He would let her know that he was still living here. When she ran, he would go after her starting the chase. He got that old familiar feeling back.

When I was done putting the groceries away, I made a sandwich and sat down at the oak table. It was quiet and eery sitting at this large table all alone. All I could hear was the sound of my chewing. Yet I felt like someone was in the house with me. I would have to get used to this paranoid feeling. It was only natural to be afraid when you move on your own. When I was finished eating, I washed the dish and put it back in the cabinet. Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door.

**"Huh? I didn't invite anyone over." **I mumbled to myself as I walked to the door.

I opened it to find an older man standing infront of me with a frantic look on his face. He had grey hair, with a bald spot on top, a matching grey beard, and a pair of bright blue eyes.

Michael saw who this was, and backed down the stairs deeper into the shadows. This man looked in the darkest corners just to find him and lock him up. He became annoyed that Dr. Loomis was once again, getting in the way. He would have to kill her quick, so no one would hear her.

**"Hi. Can I help you?" **I asked.

**"No. But I can help you." **He stated. My eyes widened at his remark.

**"What?" **I asked in shock.

He poked his head in and looked around my house through the door as if he was looking for something. I followed his gaze, then looked back at him like he was crazy.

**"I need to talk to you about the previous owner of this house. May I come in?" **My mouth fell open at this strangers' self invite.

**"I'm sorry. But I don't even know your name!" **I couldn't help but laugh as I spoke.

**"I'm Dr. Loomis. Forgive me for being so forward. But you are in danger."**He looked at me with concern. This had to be a joke. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I began to shut the door.

**"Okay. That's enough." **I said with a serious tone.

The door was halfway shut when I heard him say** "I was Michaels' therapist. He was my patient for 15 years!" **For some reason it caught my interest. I paused, then opened the door to let him continue. He sighed in relief.

**"I know him better than anyone else. I know that he's still alive, and that he still lives here." **He spoke with certainty. But it wasn't enough to convince me.

**"That's impossible." **I argued.

**"I've witnessed him kill before. I even shot him myself, he just got up and walked away!" **His eyes were wide showing how spooked he was.

I should have shut the door in his face, but I was fascinated to hear the story from the therapist himself. It was cool to hear about Michael Myers from an actual witness. But I don't believe that he's still alive. I would have to discuss this with him another time.

**"I've been moving in this house all week and I haven't seen anything weird." **I assured him.

**"Yes, but have you stayed the night yet?" **He questioned.

I tried to say something to convince him that the house was clear, but all I could come up was** "No." **feeling defeated.

**"It's your property now, I can't force you to leave. But I highly recommend that you leave for your safety." **He said with sincerity, as he warned me about his patient.

**"Your right. You can't force me to leave. I appreciate your concern, and I would love to talk more about this. But I'm tired, and it's getting late. Can we talk about this tomorrow?" **I said kindly, letting him know that I was interested in talking about it. But kept my voice firm, showing that I wasn't leaving.

He looked down at the floor with disappointment, then looked back up at me. **"Very well. I'll be close by. If I hear anything strange, I'll check up on you to make sure your okay." **Anyone else would think his comment was creepy. But I had a strange feeling that I was secure around him.

**"Okay thank you Dr. Loomis." **I smiled, showing him that I really did appreciate his concern. He took one more look around my house, then nodded , forcing a smile on his worried face. He hesitated before walking to his car, obviously not wanting to leave me alone. He was infront of his car when he yelled, **"Oh. By the way, I didn't get your name!"**

**"Amy." **I called back to him.

**"Be safe Amy." **He smiled, then took another wary look around my house before driving off. I shut the door and turned to the stairs. If I wasn't so tired, I would have invited Dr. Loomis in to tell me stories. But I had to get ready for bed. I went upstairs, grabbed a towel and a red silk night gown then went in the bathroom and took a long hot shower. When I was done, I blew out my hair, sprayed perfume, and slipped on my night gown.

While Amy was in the shower, Michael took the time to go in her room and leave her a message. Michael looked around the room in confusion at the new bed and dresser. He touched the new sheets, then His fists started to clench around them. What was this pest thinking? Comming into his home and throwing her garbage all over. Not only would he have to kill her, but he would have to move her stuff out. He thought he could finally be alone at his home, and relax. This was such an inconveniece for him. He heard her walking to the room, then hid in the closet to wait for her reaction. He couldn't see her behind the door, but he could sense her presence in the room.

I was about to lay in my bed when I saw an old news paper laying on my sheets. My eye brows furrowed as I reached to pick it up. I could have sworn that this wasn't here when I got my night gown. And I know it doesn't belong to me. When I touched it, I felt how delicate it was. The paper was starting to turn brown in certain areas, showing how old it was. I put it closer to my face and read the title. "Little Michael of Haddonfield kills sister on Halloween night." dated "November 1st, 1963." Chills went down my spine, causing me to almost drop it. But I caught my balance, and recovered. This was a prank from the kids that moved my bed in this morning. Ofcourse! How could I have fallen for it. I looked at the paper and was amazed that they had this original copy. It was written the day after he murdered his sister. I sat on the bed, and continued to read the article. Most would have found it creepy to read this in the same house that it happened, but I was fascinated.

I read the article about how little Michael took a butcher knife and killed his sister in the room that was across the hall from mine. It says that he was 6 years old, with no reason for killing his 16 year old sister. His mother and father came home and found him standing on the front lawn with a bloodied butcher knife. They sent him to Smiths' Grove that night. I couldn't believe such a young boy would lash out and kill someone. That's when I saw the picture below the article. Little Michael was standing there with an expressionless look on his face. He had boyish features, with baby cheeks and pouty lips. His eyes were piercing dark, and his hair was a light brown. Even at a young age, you could see the maturity in his eyes. As if he knew something that grown ups didn't even know. He was truly the most adorable little boy I have ever seen. Although the circumstances of the situation, I couldn't help but say to myself, **"He was such a cute little boy, I bet he grew up to be a handsome man.. He must have been so alone to do something like that." **When I was done, I put it down on the dresser. I took some nyquil to help me sleep. I was very wired from being in a new, exciting environment, so I took the medicine to calm my nerves. Then I layed down and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Michael waited for fear to fill the room, to hear her get up scream, and run out the door. It would be his cue to chase after her. But it never came. Instead he heard her say, **"He was such a cute little boy, I bet he grew up to be a handsome man.. He must have been so alone to do something like that." **He felt an unknown feeling pull at his heart. No one has ever complimented him before. Ecspecially when he was about to kill them. Why didn't she feel fear when she read the article? Why would she say something nice about him? What is she? He thought to himself.

Moments after He stood there stunned, he felt her movements stop. He knew that she was asleep. He quietly walked over to her and raised his knife. He knew that Dr. Loomis was near by, so it was better for her not to make any noise. He was about to lower his knife to her stomache, when she turned to face him and let out an innocent sleepy sigh. He paused as he caught a glimpse of her face. She had long dark lashes that cast a shadow under her eyes. She had high cheek bones, and rosy pink lips. Her hair flowed around her like a waterfall. He couldn't help but think to himself that she was beautiful. This shocked him. He never looked too much into anyones appearance, he saw his victims as blurry bodies. Yet here he is, taking in information about this "Amy". What is she? Why am I so curious about her? He took the comfortor and threw it off of her to get a better look.

His eyes widened at her red silk night gown, It reminded him of blood. Her skin looked so fair next to the deep red. It clung to her showing off her slim body with round curves. Her arms and cleavage were exposed. Her collar bone looked so fragile, yet her arms looked lightly toned. Her wrists were so tiny, and her fingers looked so delicate. His eyes traveled to her cleavage. He nearly jumped as a reflex at this new physical feeling forming inside of him. He didn't understand it. He had to find out what she was, and why she made him feel this way. He took one more look at her, then knew what he was going to do.

**Yay! He finally met her! Stay with me for the next chapter. Things get interesting when she wakes up and meets him. What will he do with her?**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Okay! It is time for Amy to wake up. There is a point in the story where she describes Michaels' physical features. I am true to Michael Myers, so I describe him as the one and only, Nick Castle who played Michael in the original Halloween. Forgive me for going from Amys' POV, to Michaels' POV. I'm making it as clear as I can for you guys. Thank you for the reviews! They really made me happy, and incourage me. I do not own any of the halloween characters. **

The next morning I woke up extra groggy. I'm usually such a light sleeper, and wake up various times during the night. Thanks to the Nyquil, I slept like a rock. I layed in bed for a long moment before noticing how strangely chilly the room was. Maybe I forgot to turn the heat on, or maybe I left a window open? I was too lazy to get up and check, so I curled up into the comfortor. I expected to feel a full, warm blanket, instead I felt a thin ripped up sheet. My eyes tightened in confusion. That's strange, all my sheets are brand new? I slowly started opening my eyes. The first thing my eyes flickered to was an old dim lamp that barely gave off any light. It rested on a dusty cracked entable, with candles light around it. I was hit with a dark reality that I wasn't in my room. Chills went up my spine, paralyzing me to the bed. The only thing that moved were my eyes to look around.

The walls were rusty, the floor was damp and covered in dirt. I looked to my left and spotted a hallway. I could hear the sound of water echoing through it from far away. I'm in the sewers. How did I end up here? I started hyperventilating. Suddenly, I noticed movement in the hallway. I stopped breathing completely. A white mask started to appear as the form came closer into the light. No! It can't be! I stared at the mask, waiting for it to disappear and just be my imagination. But the figure kept moving into the room showing the black boots, blue mechanics uniform, and dark eyes staring through the mask. This is him. Every detail described to me was the same as the man standing across the room from me. This is Michael Myers.

I was frozen still, immobilized by fear. I couldn't scream or, even cry, I just layed there. The only thing I could hear was his steady breathing, and the water echoing into the room. Our eyes were locked for a long time before I saw something gleam in the light. I looked down to see him holding a butcher knife in his hand. I gasped and moved back on the bed. Reality kicked in. I jumped up on my feet, clenching my fists' defensivley. Michael Noticed my gaze at the knife. He glanced down at the knife, then back at me. He started walking towards me in slow, ghostly steps. I tensed my body to fight back. I was usually so tough. I've been in a few situations where I had to fight. This one time I was walking to my car from the mall, this guy was beating up on his girlfriend in the parking lot. I got mad and cut in, punching him in the nose, then brought the back of my hand up, slapping it again. I left him leaning up against the car with a bloody broken nose. Another time, I was at a club and a guy grabbed me from behind, I grabbed his hand away and twisted it until it cracked. But I knew that with the knife in his hand, my punches would be useless. He was getting closer to me. I backed up as far away as I could until my back was up against the wall. I prayed that I could shrink into the wall and disappear so he couldn't see me. But his focus was on me, showing that there was nowhere to hide.

He stopped a foot away from me with his knife pointed at me. I looked down at the fateful weapon that would soon end my life. I closed my eyes and waited for the blade to stab me. I waited for a long time. Nothing happened. I opened my eyes to find him standing there emotionless, staring at me. He had the most intense eyes I've ever seen. They were a dark brown, almost black. They wrapped around deep dark black pupils that swallowed me in like an abyss. His stare was so powerful, pinning me against the wall. It was as if he was eyeing his prey. I knew my fate. I decided to make it quick. Maybe if I don't show any fear, he will get bored and kill me quickly. I fearlessly leaned in closer and spoke as calm as I could.

**"Get it over with." **My voice cracked at the end, failing to keep control.

He was so close I could feel his breath hit the top of my head as it echoed through his mask. The sound was scarring. If I lived through this, it would haunt me in my dreams. He continued to stand there, just staring. What was he waiting for? I bet hes planning something gruesome. You can't torture someone who asks to die. I forced myself to look into those horrible eyes again. I made my voice serious.

**"Please." **I pleaded.

He tilted his head to the side, as if he was confused. It was a chilling gesture that made me shiver. After a few moments, he brought his head back up straight, then lowered his knife. My eyes followed his motion with a quizzical expression. I turned my head away, and waited for the blow. Suddenly I heard metal hit the floor. I looked down to see the knife at my feet. By the time I met his gaze, his hand started to come closer to my face. Oh my god. He's going to do it the slow way. He's going to choke me. I took in a deep breath of air, cherishing it. Once I let it out, I was unable to breathe again. Fog started to blur my vision. I became weak. Unconsciousness took over me, and I welcomed it. Atleast now I won't feel pain. I fell to the side peacefully.

Michael could not believe that this girl was so brave. It caught him by surprise when she stepped closer to him, asking him to "get it over with". He did not want to kill her, atleast not yet. First he wanted to find out why this girl was so different from everybody else. When she stared up at him the candle light shined against her face. The blonde in her hair was glowing. The red night gown was shining. He noticed her eyes for the first time. They were a deep brown, almost as dark as his. Her eye lashes fanned around them, making them look so captivating. He had the strangest urge to touch her face. But before he could, she fainted. He reach out to catch her. One hand on the back of her head, the other arm wrapped around her waist. He picked her up bridal style, the same way he carried Annies' body into the house on halloween. He brought Amy to the bed, and layed her down carefully. He stood over her and watched curiously. She looked dead as she layed there unconscious. The color on her lips, and face was gone. He was confused. Is she dead? He tilted his head and reached out to touch her pale lips. He nearly skimmed her bottom lip with his finger, when she took a gasp of air and fluttered her eyes open. Michael quickly pulled his hand away, putting it back to his side, unnoticed by Amy.

I was so peaceful. I felt light, like all the weight of stress and fear was vanished. As I took a breath and started to open my eyes I thought I was in heaven. Or maybe it was a dream and I would wake up in my room. My eyes opened. The first thing I saw was the masked killer. The same sting of chills went up my spine. Why didn't he kill me? Why isn't it over yet? My mind panicked frantically. The look of terror showed on my face as I looked at the boogeyman. He's probobly enjoying my fear. He wants to wait until I go crazy before killing me. I started to get angry. I can't just sit here and wait for him to kill me. I have to fight back. How strong can he be?

I looked away from him to focus on gaining courage, when I saw the knife on the floor. It was closer to me than to him. Then I saw that the hallway was on my side. If I moved quick enough, I could escape. I just had to pray that I could find my way out of the sewers. He had a suspicious look in his eyes as he watched me look around the room. I put on an innocent "scared little girl" expression, and started to play with my hair. Once he calmed down, I acted quickly, catching him off guard. I grabbed the knife, then headed for the hallway, taking big leaps with out looking back. I almost reached the hallway when I felt a cold hand grab my wrist in a bruising grip. I winced at the shock of his touch as he pulled me back. My head banged against his shoulder, definitly forming a bump. His hand clutched my wrist that held the butcher knife. With my free hand, I whirled around and punched him in the side of his face with the back of my fist. He jerked his head to the side and loosened his grip. I broke free, trying to run again. I saw our shadows on the wall from the light of the candles. He was close behind me, his had started to reach for my hair. I stopped short, twirling around while lifting my leg. I kicked his hand hard before he could touch me. He had a surprised look on his face. He stood there shocked for a moment. I had the perfect opportunity to stab him. I lifted the knife up, and froze as I stared into his eyes. For some reason I couldn't do it. I'm not a killer.

I started to step back, but his hand grabbed my wrist again, with a more painful grip than before. He swung me back into the wall. I let out a yell as I felt the impact crash my body. He lifted my wrist, then yanked to knife out, reclaiming it in his hand. He then grabbed my throat and pulled me closer to him, forcing me to stare into those horrible eyes. They held furry, and anger in them. He brought the knife to my throat, just below his other hand. His grip wasn't enough to choke me, but tight enough to show me his strength. He took steps forward, I followed his motion and repeated the steps backward. It was the only direction I could go with out getting cut by the knife. The back of my legs bumped into the edge of the bed, causing me to fall back on it. He bent over me, still gripping my throat and holding the knife to me, showing me that he was in control, and if I ever tried anything, he would win. I layed under neath him, being covered by his shadow. Deep down I was panicking in fear, but on the outside I looked angry. I knew I lost, but I wouldn't go out with out my pride.

Michael was surprised by her strength. She was stronger than most of the men he killed. But not stronger than him. While he was standing there stunned, it gave her plenty of time to stab him. But she looked him in the eye, and hesitated. Why? He thought to himself. No one ever held back from hitting him with a weapon. She surely had no problem punching him, why not stab him? As he held her down with dominant force by the neck, her eyes darkened, staring at him with anger.

**"Let. me. go." **She said in a threatening voice, pausing inbetween words.

The look in her eyes was dangerous. They held the look of a wild cat about to pounce. She wasn't even scared. How could she be so brave?** "What is she?" **He thought to himself one more time. He decided to find out. He lowered his knife to her arm.

**"Ah!" **I winced as I felt a sharp sting against my upper arm. I looked down and saw a small cut, about two inches long. Not deep, but still enough to make me bleed alot. I gasped at the sight, and whipped my head to face Michael. My eyes furrowed in anger, and fear. My mouth was wide open.

Michael saw the blood drip down her arm and was even more confused. He tilted his head back and forth, examining the blood. 'She is human' He realised. But he couldn't understand how a little girl could hit him, making him stumble back. The look she gave him was so evil. Maybe shes a strong human. Then he looked at her face. Her eyes were wide with fear, and pain. She was shaking underneath his hands. She started to teer and whimper. She is just as fragile as any other human. She just puts up a good fight. He started to feel something in his stomach that he never felt before. Usually when he made a girl cry and bleed, he continued until she was dead. But he felt, guilty.

Michael looked at my cut for a long time. Then He looked back up at my face and his eyes changed completely. He blinked and loosened his intense dark stare. He put the knife down, and raised his hand slowly to my arm. He was about to slide his fingers against my cut, almost in an apologetic gesture. I jumped back defensively and glared at him.

**"Dont touch me!" **I shot at him.

He leaned back a centimeter at my reaction. He waited for a few seconds staring blankly at me. Then he tried to touch my cut again.

**"What's wrong with you?" **I yelled. Why would he cut me, then try to apologize? This is Michael Myers. The man who kills a hand full of innocent people on Halloween. Why doesn't he just do it already. Is he messing with me? Is this some sick kind of joke?

Michael changed from apologetic, to angry. He stood up, grabbed his knife, and walked to the other side of the room with slow steps. He faced the wall and just stared at it. I couldn't understand why he would get so angry to walk away like that. Why didn't he just kill me. I stared at him cautiously. I decided to take the time to get a good look at the infamous killer. I could only see the back of him, since he was facing the wall. He was an average height, about 5' 10''. The fake hair on his mask was brown. It slicked back and flipped up at the ends. The mechanics uniform showed his muscle tone. His shoulders were broad, they lead to his upper back. I could see the outline of his strong shoulder blades from the material of the clothing. His arms were firm. I started looking down his back to his slim waist, then lower. I mentally kicked myself for almost checking out my captivater. I brought my eyes to something more appropriate. I noticed his hands cleched into fists. Faint lines of veins popped out, showing how strong his grip was. His skin was tan, with a hint of red. All in all, he was a pretty average looking guy. From a quick glance, he looked like a normal man dressed in a halloween costume. But when you looked in his eyes, that's where the danger was. The expression was emotionless, yet the pupils held so much evil that it practically controlled you. His touch was powerful, that alone was enough to differ him from an average man. No man could hold a grip with such force.

**Please, review if you read this. I'm trying to stay as true to Michaels' personality as I can while adding a little more emotion when it comes to Amy. Let me know what you think of this chapter. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for all of the reviews, and subscribers! And to everyone who's reading! I never expected to get anything. You're all freakin awesome! I do have a plan for this story. It's going to be a long story, I'm not sure how many chapters, so stay with me! Also, I will throw in some background on Amy, it's not too important, but it does show why her personality is so different from other people. I do not own Michael, or any of the Halloween characters. Heres chapter 4. Enjoy! **

Michael stood still for a long time, just staring at the wall. I couldn't tell whether he was thinking, or just completely zoned out. I sat still on the bed, afraid to move or make a sound. Though I was quiet, I was panicking in my thoughts. This is what I get for moving on my own. Either I stay at home, get married, have children, and live a very unhappy life just to satisfy my mother. Or I do what I want, move on my own, and get killed by the boogeyman. I guess I did tell my friends back at home that I would rather die than marry my exboyfriend. Isn't this ironic?

My attention focused back to Michael. It must have been hours, he was still in a tranze. I became nervous and impatient. I looked around the room for a distraction. On the floor beside the bed, was a stack of newspapers. Curiousity got the best of me. I looked at Michael to see him still facing the wall, unaware that I was even in the room. He's going to kill me anyway, what does it matter? I reached down, put the newspapers on my lap and began to flip through them. The first title read, "Michael escapes Smiths' Grove and returns to Haddonfield." My mouth fell open. It was obviously Michael who left the newspaper on my bed. He was warning me, and I didn't listen.

Evey article was about the attacks of Michael Myers. They included detailed information about how he killed his victims, their ages, along with pictures of them. I noticed that most of his victims were family members, and others that got in the way. One article explained the injuries that he recieved. Dr. Loomis shot him in the heart 6 times, he was stabbed in the throat with a sewing needle, and stabbed in the chest with a butcher knife. A few more injuried were included. I couldn't believe how indestructable this man was. What was I dealing with?

I looked up to see if any of the wounds could be seen. I jumped to see Michael standing infront of me, staring down at me. He didn't even make a sound to warn me that he was there. It was as if he just appeared out of nowhere.

**"I'm sorry." **I said innocently as I put the newspapers down.

He showed no signs of anger or offense, he just stood there, emotionless.

**"I didn't mean to touch your stuff. I won't do it again." **My voice cracked, I was intimidated by his intense stare. He glanced down at the newspaper, then back at me. I began to feel awkward, I stared at the wall, the floor, the bed, anything to aviod his gaze. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. I couldn't take it any longer. I had to break the silence.

**"Why did you bring me down here?" **I asked nervously.

Nothing.

**"Do you even understand me?"** I asked doubtfully.

He just blinked in response. I know he hears me, but does he understand what I'm saying? I decided to test this out to see if I got a response, whether it was good or bad. I pointed at him, and spoke clearly.

**"Michael." **Emphasizing that I knew who he was.

Michael felt warm from hearing her say his name. Usually doctors said his name in a baby voice, or victims would say it with fear before they were killed. But Amy spoke to him like he was a man. He gave a barely noticable nod in response.

I couldn't believe he gave me a respond. I was actually kind of excited. Which scared me a little. It was insane to have any type of communication with a murderer. But maybe if I show little fear, he will let me go. I looked around the room, then back into his eyes.

**"You live here." **I said.

His eyes loosened the intense stare, I took that as a good thing, so I continued.

**"Why did you take me here?" **I asked.

I gasped as his hands reached out to grab my shoulders. He pushed me back, forcing me to lay down. His touch was shocking, it made me nearly jump out of my skin.

**"What are you doing?" **I protested.

He then threw the sheets over me in a rude way. He obviously doesn't have any social skills. I couldn't understand why he did that. Is he trying to put me to bed? Out of fear, I layed still and followed his orders. He stood overe me, staring down. I would definitly not be going to sleep knowing that he would be here watching, possibly killing me in my sleep. But then again, he didn't kill me in my sleep while I was in my room, or I should say HIS room. Instead he brought me down here. What was his motive? Maybe he wants to torture me. There could be no other reason. He is a cold blooded killer.

While I was deep in my thoughts, I started to get dizzy again. I realised that I was dehydrated from lack of water, and stress. I tried to focus on keeping calm, but I started to see white spots all over the room. Looking up at Michael with pleading eyes, I asked a stupid question.

**"Can I have water?" **

He tilted his head, paused for a moment, then left the room. I was confused. Is he going to leave me here to die? I could hear his footsteps through the hall. Suddenly they stopped, and I heard a splash. His footseps started echoing back into the room. Michael entered with his hands cupped together. He walked towards me then leaned over, putting his hands under my chin. I looked down and was amazed to see dirty sewage water cupped in his hands. I couldn't believe he was trying to give me water. I stared down with my mouth wide open in disbelief. The fact that he was offering me to drink out of his hands was barbaric, and actually sweet, if the shape could be such a word. I looked up at him with wide eyes to see him waiting patiently.

**"I..I can't. No thank you. I need clean water." **

He looked down at his hands, watching the dirt swim around, then brought them back to his side, causing the water to spill on my chest. I jumped from the cold water. It made my night gown stick to my breasts. My nipples hardened at the cold fabric.

Michaels' eyes widened as he let out a grunt through his mask. The noise was so dominant, it frightened me. I jumped back, and covered my chest with the sheet. He stood there, all tensed up, staring intently at my chest. My cheeks blushed from embarrassment.

Michael was surprised by the effect her body had on him. He had seen many women before, but never paid attention to their body. Yet, even with the sheets covering her, he stood motionless, staring at the same direction, still seeing the image of her through the sheets. Sparks tingled around his lower body. He felt a strong urge to touch her, but quickly shook it off, remaining the emotionless killer he was. He had no time for distractions. He looked down at his dripping hands then back up to see Amy with fear in her eyes. He relaxed to calm her down.

When Michael loosened his tense stance, I was a little more comfortable. But I stayed frozen, careful not to make any sudden movements that would set him off. I could not comprehend what just happened. He looked like he was about to attack me, and the most bizarre part was, he looked allured. I've never heard of Michael having any sexual emotions, let alone any emotions. He could have been startled when I jumped from the water splashing. That had to have been it. In a quick movement, he snapped his head to the side and looked away from me. He walked to the edge of the bed, then sat down. Once again, staring at the wall, as if nothing had ever happened. I layed there for a long time, forcing myself to stay awake. I could not go to sleep after seeing him react that way. He might touch me, or cut me. Minutes of battling to stay awake, a different type of tiredness took over my body. I was overdue from dehydration, the white spots returned. My body started to go limp. The last thing I saw before my eyes rolled shut was the brown hair on the back of Michaels' mask.

I woke up warmer than I did the day before. I was surprisingly comfortable. My body was fully rested, letting me know that I was asleep for a long time. Then I realised that I was still in the sewers. I sat up real fast, making sure that I was okay, and unharmed. The first thing I noticed was that my comfortor was layed out ontop of me. Then I saw plastic bags filled with food, spread out on the floor by the wall. My head turned to Micheal, who was sitting in the same place as last night, except this time his body was turned facing me. I looked back at the comfortor, and bags just to make sure that I was seeing straight. It didn't make any sense. Why would he bring me warmth, and food if he was planning on killing me? I turned from confused, to disappionted. This could only mean one thing. He wants to keep me alive a little bit longer. He's planning on keeping me down her for a while.

While I was drowning in my sorrows, Michaels' hand slowly started reaching out towards me. My eyes shot down, expecting to see a knife. Instead he was holding out a bottle of water. My eye brows furrowed into a quizzical expression. Michael shook the bottle, as if he was waiting for me to grab it. I warily took it, being careful not to touch his hand in the process. I expected him to grab me, but he let me take the bottle, then put his hand to his side.

**"Um.. Thank you?" **I said awkwardly.

I examined the lid, making sure that the seal wasn't opened. Once I saw that it was safe, I twisted it open and gulped the whole bottle down in seconds. Water never tasted so good. My stomach growled violently, begging for food. I looked up at Michael and asked, "**Can I have food?" **Like a child asking their parents for a cookie.

He glanced at the bags , then back at me. I couldn't tell if that was a yes, or a no. I was too hungry to care if I died, so I decided to go anyway. I spoke to him in a nervous tone. **"I'm gonna go over there. Okay?" **He showed no signs of anger, so I timidly walked over to the bags, keeping eye contact with him the whole time. I didn't want to give him the advantage of catching me off guard. Once I reached the bags, I kneeled down and rummaged through them. I noticed that they were my groceries that I bought the other day. I looked at Michael with astonishment.

**"You went back to the house and brought me my blanket, and food." **Speaking more to myself than to him. He stared calmly at me, as if he was happy that I noticed.

I had the strangest sense that he did it to be nice, but I was too afraid of him to give him that much credit. He shifted his eyes to the food, then back at me, encouraging me to eat. I picked up the bag closest to me, choosing to eat the first thing I saw. I scarfed down a protein bar, then grabbed a peach. I bit into it until all that was left was the pit. He watched my every move, examining the way I ate like he'd never seen this before. I would usually be embarressed to eat like this infront of someone, but for all I know, this could be my last meal. After I was done eating a handful of pretzels, I threw all of the wrappers back into the bag.

I decided to sit on the floor against the wall. The distance between Michael was much more preferable than sitting next to him on the bed. Apparently he didn't like it, because he immediatly started getting up and walking to me. The slow steps seemed to take forever to reach me. The sound of his foot steps became louder in my ears as he got closer. I started to shake vigorously. By the time he reached me, my breathing was out of control. He stood over me, like I was a bug in his path. In one swift movement, he reached down, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to my feet. I shrieked from his tight grip. He then let go, and gave me a light shove towards the bed. I stumbled a bit, but then caught my balance. With out any protests, I walked to the bed and sat down. He followed behind, and sat closer to me than he did before. His presence was unnerving, I couldn't bare to be this close to him. I started to scooch away, but his hand grabbed my arm. I yelled, and tried to shake myself free, but he held me firm in his grasp.

His touch went from harsh, to gentle. He lifted my arm, and outstretched it towards him. With his other hand, he began tracing the tiny muscle on my upper arm, mesmerizing every detail. He flipped my arm over and began tracing the lines of my veins on my wrist. His eyes followed his movements as if he were inspecting a science project. His fingers felt rough as they brushed against my skin. The sound of his breathing through the mask was the most horrifying part. He slowly brought his hand to my neck. The killers hands were way to close to my throat. He stroked his fingers from under my chin, to my collar bone, repeating the movements over and over again. His eyes were filled with curiousity, and he began to tilt his head back and forth.

In that moment, I realised exactly what I was to him. A lab rat for him to study. He obviously didn't spend time with other people before. He was feeling the sensitive parts of a humans body, parts where he would usually stab. I became so afraid that I lost it. Teers filled my eyes, and I started to hyperventilate. I looked into his eyes and cried out, **"Please! Just let me go!" **

Michael was touching Amys' skin. He was curious as to how her body worked. He never examined a body while it was alive. Maybe if he looked hard enough, he would find out why he was so interested in her. He felt the areas where he normally killed people. But this was different, he didn't have the urge to stab or choke her. Instead, he paid attention to the soft skin of her neck, and the feminine structure of her collar bone. When he heard her cries, he looked up to see fear in her eyes. For some strange reason, this bothered him. He cared what she thought of him. He didn't look at her like a victim, and didn't want her to act like a victim. He spotted a teer falling down her cheek. He knew that this was a sign of distress, and wanted to stop it from happening. So he reached up and touched it.

I gasped as I felt Michaels' finger touch my cheek. He poked a teer, then brought it to his face, looking at the wet spot on his finger. He blinked then brought his hand back to my face, rubbing it gently, feeling the shape of my cheekbone. This was a more calming touch. I found it almost comforting. My emotions went on a rampage from being frightened, to being calmed by the same man. It was outrageous! I couldn't wrap my head around it. Why was he doing this to me? Why didn't he just kill me? I became so irritated, that my fear vanished. I shook my head away from his hand, and gave him a serious expression.

**"Why are you doing this?" **He stared back, as if he didn't understand.

**"You kidnap me, cut me, push me around, then you bring me food and water, tuck me in, and touch me!" **I paused, taking a few breaths to calm down. **" I know who you are. You're Michael Myers! You either kill someone, or walk past them****, without paying them any mind. So what are you doing with me?".."What am I some sick little doll that you're keeping as a pet?" **I shouted.

His eyes looked annoyed. He shot his hand out and covered my mouth to shut me up. Once again, showing his lack of people skills.

Michael was annoyed that she was was questioning him. He didn't even know the answer. He obviously didn't want to kill her. And for some reason he wanted to keep her down here with him. But he didn't know exactly what he wanted from her. He certainly didn't like the accusations she threw at him about keeping her as a pet. He was also annoyed that she was raising her voice. His patience was lost, and he put his hand over her mouth to silence the yelling. After a few seconds, he let go of her mouth, giving a warning in his glare.

When Michael released me, I kept quiet, obeying his command. His power over me was humiliating. Anyone else would have been slapped across the face for putting their hand over my mouth. But I was too afraid of him to fight back. From now on, I wouldn't raise my voice like that. I'm lucky he didn't slit my throat. Down here, I wasn't the tough fighter who stands up for herself. With Michael, I was a defenseless little girl.

I stood silent for about an hour. Just staring at the floor. By this point, I lost all hope of getting out alive. I decided to spend the rest of my time talking to my captivator about pointless things, just to pass the time. The silence would make me go crazy, and maybe he'll become annoyed from my rambling and get it over with. I started talking about what was on my mind.

**"You know, No ones gonna even notice that I'm gone. They won't start looking for me until it's christmas and they don't get a card from me."** I shook my head in disapproval.** "I can see why you stay alone, hidden in the dark. It's much better than living up there with a bunch of people who don't actually care about you." **I was still staring at my feet, subconciously tapping them on the cold floor. I could feel Michaels' eyes on me, as he listened, paying attention to every word. This made me continue.

**"The only time my family or friends act like they care is when its a holiday, or a tragedy happens. I can imagine all of the love and attention I'm gonna get when they find my body. They'll all get together and talk about how they miss me, when I haven't even gotten a call from them in weeks. Most of them will probobly put on a show just to get attention, gossiping about the drama of knowing someone who got killed." **

By this piont I was so angry that my body was tense. I was staring at the floor, but seeing images of my friends, and family at my wake, loving every minute of having the spot light on them when the reporters ask them questions about my death.

I was so zoned out, that I didn't even see Michaels' hand reach for my mouth. I snapped out of it when I felt his finger lightly stroke my lip. I realised that I was biting my lip, clenching down on it. I let go of my bite and gasped when I saw blood on Michaels' finger as he pulled his hand away.

He looked at the drop of blood on his finger, then turned to me, staring at my lip.

**"Oh. Uh.. Thanks." **I said, as I licked my bottom lip to wipe it away, tasting the rusty tang of blood. I looked at him, and gave a sincere smile.

Michael was surprised that this beautiful girl related to him. Though he had no reason to kill his family, he prefered to be alone. It was just the way he was. Yet, Amy had a reason to want to be alone. When she smiled at him, his black heart softened a little. He was fascinated by her. The more he tried to figure her out, the more interested in her he became. These new emotions were frustrating, but he couldn't deny that they were pleasant.

Michaels' eyes looked calm as he stared back at me. It was the first time that his eyes didn't scare me. It was weird that he stopped me from hurting myself. Almost as if he cared about me. The weirdest part was that I felt good talking to him. It was actually nice to vent out with him just staring at me, listening, not talking. I must be going crazy. How could I be thinking of him in a positive way? I really need fresh air, this sewage waste is starting to get to my head.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Thank you for all of the reviews! Okay, this is really a fill in chapter. Its a slow start to get things going. I'm making it as interesting as I can for you guys. I make a point in this story as to why I am strictly a John Carpenter fan. Please don't be offened. And keep reading! I just want to show why I prefer John Carpenters' original. I do not own any of the halloween characters. Enjoy! **

We spent the rest of the day staring at eachother. I would occasionally look away nervously, while his eyes remained locked on mine like a target. Though he stared at me for hours since the day I got here, it was still as uncomfortable as the first time. When I got hungry, my stomach made a loud gurgle noise. Michaels' eyes shot in the direction of my belly like he was wondering what that was. I became slightly embarressed, which was crazy. He is the boogeyman who's keeping me hostage, not a boy who pays attention to that type of stuff. I looked at him awkwardly and once again asked for his permission.

**"Umm.. Can I eat again?" **My voice squeaked at the end.

He just stared, as if I didn't say anything. I sighed and started to look away. Then he lifted his hand and pointed to the food. I was surprised by his gesture. I stared at him, giving a tiny thankful smile, forcing it on my face. Though he was feeding me, it was still wrong to keep me locked down her, asking for his permission to eat in the first place. I cautiously got up and walked to the wall very slowly. I bent down and looked through the bags more thoroughly this time. I passed through more fruits , protein bars, and some muffins. Some stuff was supposed to be refrigerated, and was now bad. Well, he didn't bring all of my groceries down. Theres a few things I remember buying at the store, things that needed to be cooked. Waffles, chicken, mashed potatos, and the thing that I miss most, and was having withdrawls from.. Coffee. Just thinking about it, I could smell the coffee beans brewing, and taste the strong flavor of caffine with hazelnut. I shook my head out of my mini hallucination. My stomach growled again, causing me to hurry and pick something. I ate a raisin bran muffin, and an apple. I gulped down another bottle of water, then threw it next to the bags.

This time, I walked back to the bed on my own. Though it pained me to loose my pride, I knew that he would have dragged me back anyway. I saved him all of the trouble and sat down next to him, leaving about 3 feet inbetween us. This seemed to please him. I had less of a chance escaping if I were closer to him. The awkward silence consumed the room. His heavy breathing echoed through the silence, sending an involuntarily shiver down my back.

He then turned to face the wall and stared blankly at it. I tried to join him and see if I could fill my space with just staring. I looked at the crack in the cemented wall, trying not to think, just stare. About 10 minutes went by, and I started impatiently fidgeting around. The silence was driving me crazy, it became too much for me. I snapped.

**"God! How do you do it?" **I said with pure irritaion. He turned to face me with a confused look in his eyes.

**"How do you just stare at the wall for hours? What goes on in your mind?"**

He blinked in response, but still kept his eyes blank.

**"You can stare like that all you want, but I know somethings in there." **I stated.

He tilted his head as he took in my words, proving that he acknowledged me.

**"See." **I said.

We stared at eachother for a few moments, then I began to sigh nervously, looking down at the floor. I saw the stack of newspapers on the floor.

**"Can I read the rest of them?"** Pointing to the news papers. Am I crazy? I'm with the boogeyman, asking to read scarey articles about him! But then again, what else was there to do down here? He simply looked at the papers then back at me. I took that as a yes. I reached down and read through the rest of them. I saw a picture of Michaels' parents, standing outside the car that was used to take Michael away. They looked so shaken up. All in all, they looked like loving, caring parents. Like the kind that I always wanted. Then I read the article about how his parents' died in a car accident a few years after he was sent in Smiths' Grove. My heart sunk in sympathy for him. But then I realised that if they lived, he would have probobly killed them himself. But I had to say it anyway, even if he is a cold killer, I was too kind to let it go unnoticed.

I pointed at the article and said with a whisper, **"I'm sorry." **

He was uneffected by it, it was unimportant to him. He didn't give a hint of response. Ouch. That was insulting to his family. I wish I could be so uneffected by things that bothered me. I looked at the picture, he resembled them. His little 6 year old face had both features from his mom and dad. The only difference was, his mom had blue eyes, and his dad had light brown eyes. Both sisters had light eyes. It was as if Michaels' pure black eyes were given to him for his fate of evil. I could not believe that such an innocent boy could turn out to be the same man that was sitting next to me. I had to ask.

**"The papers say that you target family, and others that protect them.. Why? Did they do anything to you?" **I asked while pointing to the article with a shaky finger.

He paused for a moment, thinking my question over, then slowly shook his head in one nod. No.

I gasped, the air felt so cold as it went down my throat. No? How could someone be so cold? So evil? I had to try again.

**"Did anything happen to you that made you kill?" **I asked being hopeful.

No.

The room started to spin. He has no reason to kill. That's why 15 years of therapy in Smiths' Grove with Dr. Loomis didn't do any good. He has no phsycological problems. He is purely and simply evil.

After knowing this, why wasn't I more afraid? I should be running out the door down the hallway screaming. Maybe it's because I'm too weak, and exhausted from being cooped down here. I would probobly fall down, and get caught before I reached the door anyway.

**"You know, sometimes I want to kill my family, but I don't actually do it!" **I pointed out.

**"If you killed your family for no reason, I can't imagine what you would do if you grew up with mine."** I laughed at that idea. If Michael randomly kills, I wonder what he would do to someone he was actually angry at. Michael held a spark of interest in his eyes. Then I became sick. I just mad a dark joke with a killer. I am discusting!

**"Yeah. That wasn't funny." **I shook my head in dissaproval.

I looked down at the picture of his parents and decided to change the subject, trying to lighten it up a bit.

**"I have a mother and a father back home. They drive me completely crazy. My younger sister is the only one I actually like. Her name's Carline. She's two years younger than me. Even though we are so different, we get eachother. We hardly talk, but when we do, there's so much to talk about.. I miss her." **I scrunched my brows together and stared sadly at the floor, thinking about how she is now that I am gone. What type of women will she become?

Michael looked at me with calm eyes as he listened. He didn't seem so threatening anymore. He just listened like a child hearing a story from their parents. I continued to randomly ramble about my favorite color, favorite movie, and songs. Things that he would probobly not understand. When I ran out of things to say, I paused and took a moment to think about what to say next.

Suddenly I felt a sting. I winced and looked down to see him touching the cut that he gave me. He was rubbing the dried blood away with his thumb, causing the crusty flakes to fall on the bed. When I looked back up, I saw regrett in his eyes. How could a monster hold remorse after killing so many people? I should have been happy, he deserved to feel this way. But through all of the evil in his eyes, that one ray of sadness gave me the need to reassure him.

**"It's okay." **I said in a comforting tone. Even though the rational part of me knew that it wasn't okay.

He lost some of the pain in his eyes, but continued to stare at the cut. This whole thing was completely insane. Maybe he was planning on temporarily keeping me. He obviously didn't want to kill me any time soon, and he didn't bring enough food to last long. Maybe he would let me free. I asked the most anticipated question.

**"Are you going to let me go?" **feeling hopeful.

His eyes darkened, showing anger at my question. His hand tightened around my arm possesively. I could feel the answer in his furry. That's a no.

**"Okay." **I signed, and hung my head down.

Michael listened intently to the girls conversation. She made a joke that actually interested him. She spoke about her family, and things that she liked. Her voice calmed him, making the solid shape feel a little more relaxed. He listened for cues, maybe there was something about her, a reason for why he was keeping her down here.

When Michael saw the dried blood on her arm, he understood why she was afraid of him. Though he cannot control his rage, nor does he want to, he didn't want to hurt her. Then she asked if he would let her go, he became furious. Until he found out why he was so interested in her, he would keep her with him. He wasn't sure what he would do after. It only made sense that he would kill her. She would tell people where he lived. But it brought a sick twist in his stomach to think about ending her life. **Her life? **Why is it so important to him? Who is she? He watched the "distraction" that sat next to him, wondering why he couldn't kill her.

As she hung her head down, a strand of hair fell in her face. This intrigued him. He once felt a womens' hair before, pulling it violently so she couldn't run. But this was different, he just wanted to simply feel it. He reached up, and held the strand in his hand, not paying any mind to her tensing under him. With the other, he began to gently stoke it. It felt soft and silky. He studied the different shades of blonde, and brown, seeing more blonde pieces. He watched it fall to her shoulder as it slipped out of his fingers like a ribbon.

Out of nowhere, Michael held my hair. I tensed for fear of him pulling it. But instead he was stroking it gently, like a child petting a kitten. His eyes were blank, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. But from his movements, he seemed pretty calm. He brushed my hair behind my shoulder, exposing my neck. I froze defensively, not knowing what to expect, at any moment he could snap. His hands felt my throat again, barely touching, just skimming his fingers across my skin. He repeated the same movements as before, starting from under my chin, down to my collar bone.

His eyes now held pure curiousity, they followed his movements, taking in every detail. I awkwardly sat there, trying to breath calmly. I couldn't forget the fact that he used this hand to hold a knife. Yet, I was more afraid that it didn't bother me so much. For some strange reason, I sensed that he wasn't going to hurt me. He was just innocently touching me. His fingertips trailed across my collar bone, leaving chills behind. This time it wasn't chills from fear. Amy, what is wrong with you? He's going to break your collar bone into your chest! Be afraid! Don't be stupid! I yelled at myself in my thoughts.

As Michael felt Amys' delicate features, he realised just how breakable she was. He remembered the fight she put up the first day in the sewers. She was strong, and well coordinated with her moves. She was the type of person who always won a battle, he knew it bothered her that she lost. This little girl was stronger than all of his victims. He wondered how long she could keep up the fight. He would have to put her strength to the test one day. He could tell that with anybody else, she could stand up for herself. But with him, she was helpless. He had complete power over her. This made him want to keep her even more. He was becomming obsessed with her.

While I was mentally yelling at myself, Michael released me. I looked up to see those dark orbs staring intently into my eyes, searching for something. I looked back cautiously.

**"What?" **I asked nervously.

He just continued to stare. I shook my head and sighed.

**"I should know by now not to ask you a question, and expect to get an answer." **

He looked into my eyes as if he was learning something very interesting. Almost as if he was finding something out about me. What does he see in me? What is he looking for?

**"Michael." **I said softly.

He blinked at my voice calling his name. His black pupils shrunk, showing more of the brown that surrounded them. I looked into them with my mouth wide open, breathless. Did I do that to him? Did I calm the monster? He stared at me, waiting for me to continue. I came out of my trance, and remembered what I was going to say.

**"I don't understand why you would spare me, when you've killed your own sister. What is it that you want from me?" **I asked.

Michael felt his heart pull when he heard Amy use his name for the second time. He was starting to understand the way she made him feel. Not only was she beautiful, but she didn't scream, or cry hysterically. She spoke to him as if he were a normal person. She looked deep into him, and tried to figure out who he was. She noticed his reactions when others just thought of him as emotionless. Even before she met him, she complimented him when she saw the newspaper on her bed. "I bet he grew up to be a handsome man." It was burnt into his memory, much deeper than any of the scars on his body. Though he had physical power over her, she had a bright light around her that had emotional power over him. He could kill a whole high school class and feel nothing. But this one girl stopped him from killing her. She was a distraction. He shouldn't be this interested in a human girl. She had to be powerful, there was no way a simple girl could make him have emotions. She calmed the rage. He can never let her go. When she asked why he brought her here, he finally had an answer. He looked into her dark, cat-like eyes and grabbed her tiny wrist, pulling her closer to him. He didn't even know his own strength as she gasped from his grip.** Mine. **

Michaels' grip was bruising as he pulled me closer to him. His eyes were very stern and set as they stared down at me. They were saying something to me, but I couldn't quite read it. Was he keeping me down here for self entertainment? No. There was more need in his eyes. Then it hit me. The man was alone down here for years with out any company. He chose to be alone. But yet, he was forcing me to stay down with him.

**"You want to be friends?" **I asked in amazement.

He tilted his head at question. He didn't quite understand what I meant either. But I knew that somehow, he wanted some kind of friendship, no matter how sick and twisted it was. And what choice do I have? Besides, he's the only person down here with me. It couldn't hurt.

**"Yeah. Friends." **I said as I gave him a nod of agreement. He then Loosened his grip, and let go, staring deep in into my eyes.

Michael didn't understand what friend was, but he knew that he wanted much more. He wanted to possess her. She belonged to him. But she spoke the word as a good thing, so he would go along with that. She could call him a friend, but he would call her, HIS.

**Okay everyone, review and let me know what you think! All you quiet people, let me know your out there! Thank you to all of my fellow crazy girls, and possibly boys for reading my twisted love story. **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Once again, Thank you for the reviews and adding my story to your alerts/favorites! This is an extremely long chapter. I hope you all enjoy this! I do not own any of the Halloween chracters.**

So, I had agreed to be friends with the boogeyman. I was still aware that I was being held against my will, and did not choose this. I was being forced to be his friend in order to keep him from cutting my throat. This should be interesting. What does one talk about to thier killer friend? I looked around the room and came up with something very lame.

**"It's a nice place you got here." **I said awkwardly.

He stared at me with a blank expression. I realised how pathetic my statement was. I searched around for something to compliment. I saw cracked walls, damp floors, and an old broken down entable, then I saw the blown out candles ontop of them. My face light up and I turned to him.

**"The candles were nice when they were light." **I said over enthusiastically in attemp to compliment the room.

He looked over at the candles then got up and walked to the entable. He pulled the droor open and reached in. I staggered back against the head board, afraid of what he might pull out. When his hand came out of the droor, I saw matches. Great! I gave him the idea of using fire! In one swift movement, he scraped the match and light it. My whole body shook uncontrolably as I stared at the fire. But to my surprise, he slowly started to light the 3 candles one by one. When he was done, he dropped the match on the floor. Thankfuly it blew out before it hit the floor.

He walked back to the bed and stood right infront of me, staring down at me. His white mask glowed in the candle light, making it even more eery. I couldn't even see his eyes, all I saw were black shadows inside of the eye holes. It was as if there wasn't anybody in the mask. I looked down at his hands to reassure myself that there was a person in there. This time he didn't sit down, he stood still, looking down at me. I stared up at the very intimidating man.

**"Thank you. I love candles. I have a scented candle for every season. This month I have pumpkin spice in one of the bags that I packed."** I randomly said.

He blinked in response. I could tell that he enjoyed being talked to. I don't think he ever let a person get this far with out killing them. Maybe it's because I'm the only one crazy enough to actually talk to him with out screaming or crying.

I payed attention the lights flickering on the walls and the sound of running water through the halls, relaxing me into a peaceful rest. After a few moments, my body started to feel heavy. I slowly drifted down until I was halfway laying down on my side, while my feet were still on the floor. It was uncomfortable so I brought my legs up on the bed. When I looked up at Michael, I could now see his eyes from the angle I was at. Tiny flames were dancing around in his onyx pupils. I watched the way the fire moved as it relfected off his eyes. Then mine started to close.

Michael watched Amy slowly drift into sleep. Once her lashes were fanned downward, he knew she was asleep. He looked at her sleeping form sprawling out on his bed. For the first time since she's been down here, she looked peaceful. Her face was calm. Usually her thin dark brown eye brows were tensed, and knotted together in stress. But now they were relaxed. She layed there on her side. One hand under her chin, with the other placed by her chest on the bed. Her cleavage was more exposed from this possition, giving him that unfarmiliar feeling again. He lowered his eyes to her side, watching the curve of her waist go down, then curve back up at her hips. This shape made him tingle even more. He could see the form of her thick muscular thighs, and curvy feminine calves through the silk material of her red night gown as it clung to her skin, and draped around the bed. She truly is beautiful. Infact, she is evil. He thought to himself. The feeling she was giving him was too powerful to be anything else.

He forced himself to tear his eyes off of her body, and look back at her face. Her pouty lips were slightly parted, giving him the need to touch them. He reached down and lightly brushed his index finger across her bottom lip. It was soft, and silky. She parted her lips even more, and breathed in. A bolt of electricity went through his hand. He immediatly jerked back and stared at her in amazement.

The feeling was pleasant, but completely unexpected. He had to get used to the way his body reacted to her. He would take it slow, exploring more parts of her body as he became more comfortable. He stood over her protectively as he watched this innocent girl sleep for hours, listening to her steady breath come in and out peacefully. She would occassionally sigh or moan an incoherent word. When she started to stir around, he knew that she was waking up. She let out a heavy sigh, and turned on her back, further away from him. Michael was so used to being a close distance with her all night that when she moved, he reflexivley moved closer, leaning over her.

When her eyes focused on him towering over her, they grew wide, and she let out a shriek. Michael realised how frightening this must be for her, so he leaned back. She cautiously sat up, giving him a confused expression.

**"W-what are you doing?" **She asked defensivley.

It bothered him that she didn't trust him. He didn't want to hurt her. And absolutely will not kill her. So why was she so timid? He got annoyed and walked to the grocery bags, picking one up, then walking back to the bed. He dropped the bag on the bed, making some of the food fall out. She jumped from the movement, and looked up at him with an even more confused expression.

**"Did I do something wrong?" **She questioned.

She now looked hurt. This made him calm down a bit. Her emotions were starting to pull him on a roller coaster. One time, he longed to see her face look like this. When he first saw her walk in his house, placing her bags on his floor. He wanted to kill her. To bring pain in her face. Now, he wanted to take it away. He gently reached in the bag and grabbed a water bottle. Her face relaxed and she took it from him, again being carfeful not to touch his hand. Which Michael was thankful for. He was very protective of people touching him. He might snap defensively.

**"Thank you."** She said as she gave him a puzzled look, like he was crazy.

Michael was acting very weird this morning, well weird for a killer. When I woke up, he was hovering over me possesivley. Then he threw the grocery bag on the bed violently. I know that this whole friendship isn't real. But if he thinks that it is, then he has to follow some rules. He can't act weird and snap at me. I looked up at the blank man, and gave a serious expression.

**"Michael. Just one thing if were going to be friends. No more cutting me with a knife, or hurting me." **I spoke with a firm voice.

I waited for him to give some type of response. He stared at for a me long time, then walked to the entable. He reached down and picked up the butcher knife that layed on the table. Then he looked at me while holding the knife in his hand. I shivered ,unable to move. He kept his eyes locked on mine for a moment. Then he opened the droor, placed the knife down, and closed behind. While he walked back to me, I was in complete shock. I thought that he was going to betray his word, and kill me. But he made a deal, and put the knife away. I sighed out of relief and gave him a sincere smile, with thankful eyes.

**"Okay. Good." **I said.

Even though he agreed, I highly doubt that he will be able to keep his deal. His nature is to kill, and he doesn't know how to act around people. But maybe this will hold him off for a while.

**"So Michael. What are we going to do today? Stare at the wall?" **I said sarcastically.

His eyes held a slight sign of annoyance. I became nerveous.

**"I was just kidding." **I said innocently.

I thought about Michael's different reactions. The way he barley gives off any emotion, yet I could tell what he wants when his eyes show a ray of feeling.

**"You know, it's funny. They describe you as an emotionless killer. But I've seen more reactions out of you then any one I've ever met. Everyone I know is so oblivious to life, and you have so much curiousity in you." **I said in realization.

He stared back appreciatively. I decided to talk more, since it was going well.

**"So, you only go out on halloween right? What do you do the other days of the year?" **I asked.

He just stared. Ofcourse, he wasn't going to answer unless it was a yes or no question.

**"Do you ever go out there?" **No response.

**"You know, I'm gonna run out of food soon. What are you going to do then?"**

Nothing.

**"Listen, Michael. You can't keep me here forever. I'm eventually going to get sick and die. Unless.. that's what you want to happen." **I said darkly.

His eyes turned uneasy at my last comment. He looked me up and down, then tilted his head.

**"It's just that, I will get sick and need medical attention from lack of light, and excercise. And eventually, I'll become to weak to breath." **He tilted his head to the other side.

**"You want to be friends right? Well, so do I. We can work something out. Look, I know that your mad at me for moving in your house."** His eyes darkened at those words. I quickly recovered. **"I'm so sorry. I will move out, and give it back to you." **I claimed.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled it to him as a sign that he didn't want me to go.

**"Okay. Okay!" **I said as I broke my wrist free. **"But If I don't go back and return to work, someone else will take your house and move in." **I stated.

His eyes darkened with pure anger. It was then that I knew I had him. The perfect plan to make him bring me back so I can escape.

**"I know you don't like that I took your house. But maybe if we go back to your house, I'll work and come home after, and no one will be able to come in and bother you." **I explained. **"We can be friends." **I said in a trusting tone.

He stared for a while, maybe he was contemplating it. But then his eyes grew hard and he put his hand on my shoulder, pressing me into the bed as a sign that I wasn't going anywhere. I realised that I wasn't getting out. In that moment, I gave up on escaping, or even trying anymore. I lowered my head and sighed heavily. My face was almost emotionless, with a hint of saddness as I leaned my elbow on my leg, and rested my head on my hand.

Michael had contemplated what she said. He didn't want her to get sick. He knew that she needed air, and food that could not be supplied down here. When she brought up the fact that she took his house, he became angry, but it quickly dissapeared when she said she would move away. Then she said that if she didn't go back, someone else would move in his house. He did not want that. But he didn't trust her enough to go back to the house. She could escape, and other people could see her too easily. She could tell people about him, or report him to the cops. Not that he couldn't handle them, but it was an inconvenience to him. He settled with keeping her down here for now, just to see if she would be okay for while. If she got sick or needed medical attention, he would deal with it then. After he let her know that she was staying, the look in her eyes was so sad that it sent a knife of guilt stabbing in his stomach. He wanted to comfort her, to let her know that he didn't want her to be upset.

He took out his hand, reached it to her face and gently cupped her cheek, pulling her to face him. He looked into her eyes and tried to give a reassuring look. She jumped at his touch, but then her eyes became wide and bewildered as she stared back at him. She stopped breathing for a moment, then let out a slow breath. For a moment she was in complete shock that he touched her face so gently. The look in his eyes was so powerful. It sent her a message, letting her know that he cared about her. At first she didn't believe it, but now she could feel it. It was bizarre.

Michael Myers actually cares about me. He actually meant it, he wants to be friends. His eyes consumed me, I felt like I was being hypnotized. My body relaxed, and my face turned calm. For the first time I took in the way his hands felt on my skin. They were warm, and rough at the fingertips, but his palm was soft. The heat of his skin was radiating on my cheek, making me feel comforted.

While I was lost in the mysterious atmosphere, I instinctively reached my hand up. Without even thinking, I put my hand over his that rested on my face. He flinched a second, shooting his eyes to my hand. I gasped, but kept my hand on his. Then he relaxed. He let go of my face and slowly turned his hand to touch my fingerstips with his. All five of our fingertips were perfectly placed together. We could feel our pulses comming from eachother. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest. We didn't even make eye contact, we both just stared at out joined fingertips in complete awe.

Then his head turned to face me, I blinked and looked in his direction. We both let go and brought out hands to our side. I let out a nervous laugh that came out more like a gasp. He just stared blankly at me, but I knew that he was feeling the same exact way that I was, astonished.

What just happened changed everything. I couldn't deny that there was a connection. No matter how much I hated it, and was revolted by the whole idea, I now didn't think that Michael Myers was all that bad. He was actually kind of sweet. I could kick myself for thinking this. I'm the phsyco one for having these feelings, not him. Though I was still scared of him, being innocent friends for now wouldn't be so bad. I looked at him, and gave another nervous laugh. His eyes warmed at my smile.

**"Well, that was.. intense." **I said.

Michael was first very shocked at Amys contact with him. But then he realised that for the first time, she voluntarily touched him. This whole time he's been the one touching her. The only other time someone touched him was when the nurses were taking his blood, or giving him an exam, or when the victims were defending themselves. He felt accepted, and wanted. As if this was the seal for them being friends.

He blinked while breathing calm through his mask. We stayed like that for a while. My body started to cramp from the possition, and I shifted around. But still my muscles were stiff. I was sitting still for too long and needed to walk arourd a bit.

**"Can I walk around the room for a while? My muscles are tensed." **I asked innocently.

He looked at me then the hallway. He stood up, grabbed my arms and pulled me on my feet. Then he walked to the door and turned to face me, while blocking the doorway. I nodded in agreement with him, letting him know that I understood him. I would not try to get away. I walked around the room, letting my legs move back into life, and my stomach loosen, while stretching my arms in different directions. Once I finally got tired from circling around the room, I croutched down on the floor and ate more food. Then I walked back to the bed, and flung the bag that Michael brought, back on the floor with the rest of the bags.

I became tired again, and layed on the bed. I layed on my back, and stared at the ceiling, seeing pipes above my head. Then I looked over at Michael, who was now standing next to me. I gave a light smile and spoke softly.

**"You know, it's actually not that bad down here. Although, I miss my bed, and the way the sun shone through my windows in the morning, waking me up. But down here, it's always dark, which keeps me asleep and tired. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.. Hey, I've never slept this much in months!" **I exlaimed.

While I was gloating about my full nights of sleep, I looked at the very tired Michael with purple showing under his eyes through the mask. Then I realised something I hadn't noticed before. Oh my god! I havent seen him sleep since I've been down here.

**"Do you sleep?" **I asked curiously.

He looked down at the bed then back at me. He gave a nod. Realisation hit me, and I felt guilty. Even though he brought me down here and forced me to lay on his bed.

**"Oh my god! I'm sorry! I've been taking your bed." **I started to get up. **"Please, Lay down. Go to sleep." **He stopped me in mid action, pushing me back down on the bed.

I looked up at Michael and did something crazy.

**"Okay, well atleast lay down with me."** I moved over, putting my body as far on the edge as it could go so that our bodies could not touch. Then I brought the pillow from under me and put it on his side. **"Here." **I said.

He stood there for a moment in thought, then picked the pillow up and brought it back to me. I grabbed it and put it under my head. I thought that he refused, but then he sat down and stared to lay down on his back, keeping as far to his side as the bed could allow. I was thankful for that. I was never comfortable with sleeping in the same bed as someone else. Even when I was with my exboyfriend, I cringed when ever he was laying next to me. I needed my privacy and space. But this wasn't the same feeling. I wasn't uncomfortable from Michael being next to me, I was uncomfortable because he was a killer and that made me nervous. Which was even more sick. How could I be annoyed with my ex being close, but not with a slasher?

We layed there, awkwardly staring at the wall, never making eye contact. I could tell that he was just as uncomfortable as I was. After a while, the sound of his slow, steady breathing, made me breath nsync with him. My eyes started to close, I relaxed into sleep.

Michael was unsure of laying next to her. If he fell asleep, she could escape. But then he knew that his senses would go off, waking him up. She wouldn't get passed the door with out him catching her. He allowed his guard down, still feeling uncomfortable about sleeping next to someone else. But it was quite peaceful. She was vibrant to be around, and being next to her made him fall asleep fast.

**Okay, so things are pretty interesting. They're getting closer, and becoming more comfortable with eachother. Michael is more honest about his feelings than Amy. Right now, she isn't as open to the whole idea. Let me know how you guys liked this chapter! Thank you for reading. Message me if you have any questions, or suggestions about this story. Your opinion matters to me! Thank you. **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**Okay everyone. Be patient. There will be a lemon. In fact, lots of lemons. But first, I am going to tease you guys. There has to be a storyline, and some build up. So hang in there. It will be worth it! Thank you so much for all of the reviews/subscribes. I do not own any of the Halloween characters. Enjoy everyone! **

The next morning I woke up earlier than usual. For some reason I was nervous, and on edge. Maybe I was getting used to the sewers and going back to my old sleeping habbits of waking up easily. I opened my eyes and slowly turned on my side. My heart nearly jumped out of my throat when I saw Michael laying next to me.

Then it all came back to me. I shared a bed with Michael Myers. I backed up little bit, afraid of waking him. His eye lids looked relaxed, yet his body was stiff. Even in sleeping form, I was afraid that he might jump up and grab me. How could a man be on guard 24/7?

I layed there nervously until I became hungry. Should I go to the food, or should I wait for him to wake up? I don't want to alarm him and make him attack. But what if he stays asleep for a while. He's been awake since I got down here. Which, I don't even know how long that's been! Well, we had a connection yesterday. There's got to be some trust right?

I decided that I would eat. I cautiously sat up, being very careful not to move the bed. Then I stood up, and tip toed to the food. Once I sat down, I grabbed another muffin that was sticking out of the bag. I didn't want to make any noise by going through the bags, so I settled for that. I took a slow bite, and chewed quieltly. While I was eating, I kept watch on the sleeping Michael. I realised that this was my perfect opportunity to escape. I looked at the door that was in the middle of us. I walked right passed it to get to the food. How stupid! That should have been my first attempt, not eating.

I thought about leaving Michael, escaping and reporting him to the police. Maybe I could change my name and move to a different country. I could never see him again. But then I realised that I made a deal with him. He put the knife away, and I agreed to be his friend. When our fingertips touched, I felt real compassion for the first time. As if I touched a friends' hand while I was in elementary school. I missed out on all of those things while growing up. Even with boyfriends in highschool, I never really felt anything. Hugging my parents good night didn't have an effect on me either. I was numb. But when Michael touched me, he paid attention to every detail, trying to get to know me. Something that no one else took the time to do. He even listened when I talked, taking interest in my opinions, and ideas. He is my friend. I can't leave. Why would I go back to people who don't even notice me? I will stay.

I continued to eat my muffin. I was about to take my 3rd bite, when there was movement in the corner of my eye. I shot my head towards the direction. I saw Michael, slowly sitting up with extreme posture, once he was up straight, he turned his head to face me. It was the most unsettling movement I've ever seen. It was almost mechanical. He looked a little baffled. The little logic that I had left told my instincts to run, that this was my last chance. But the dangerous, outcast that I was, decided to take a chance and see where this would go. I smiled at him and gave a cheery tone.

**"Good morning Michael."**

He looked at the hallway, then back at me with an outraged expression on his face. Probobly because he gave me the chance to get away while he fell asleep. He stared at me like that for a few seconds.

**"I got hungry, so I decided I would eat. I didn't want to wake you." **I said anxiously, feeling the need to explain to him.

His eyes became even more confused as he heard my words. Well, I guess he really is serious about keeping his guard up, that or maybe he's just dazed when he first wakes up. I shrugged it off, and kept eating, while taking a sip from my watter bottle.

Michael was stunned that he did not awake the second Amy got out of bed. He should have felt movement, and reacted that instant. How could he give her the chance to get away? When he saw Amy sitting on the floor, contently eating, he was even more bewildered. He didn't know what was more difficult to comprehend. The fact that he let his senses down, or the fact that she didn't try to escape.

While watching the girl smile at him and say "Good morning Michael", he felt a sense of reliance from her. Although he did not completely trust her, he had respect towards her since she did not leave.

While Michael was staring at me like I was the crazy one, I began to understand that he was right. I was crazy. I could have left, and I didn't. Did it bother him? Did that make him feel weak that he gave me the chance to escape? Well, maybe I'll make him feel better about this whole thing.

I looked Michael in the eye, and gave a casual expression.

**"Oh, Michael, it's no big deal. You would have found me anyway. You tend to appear out of no where and capture people. I'm sure you would have found me easily." **I said in a nonchalant voice.

He confidently looked back, obviously I was right. I might have made it out the door, but once I moved into my new home, he would be there waiting, if I even got that far. I looked into his eyes, they still held danger and darkness in them, but minus the purple circles underneath.

**"Well, looks like you slept well last night." **I commented with a sincere smile on my face. He blinked, but kept still, sitting up on the bed.

I was still thirsty when I finished my water. I looked through the bags, and couldn't find any. My brows furrowed as I realised that it was my last water bottle. I nervously bit my lip and thought about what was going to happen now. Would he get me more? Or would he let me die?

Michael watched Amy look through the bags in frustration. He knew that there was no more water left. As he watched Amy sit there in stress, he thought about how she transitioned in these past few days. From scared and timid, to sincere. Though she was still defensive, he was more comfortable with her. He looked down at the stressed girl, who was starting to look very sick. Her eyes were tired, and her skin was becomming pale. Her wrists' even looked more fragile than usual. He had to do something before the symptoms started showing, and she really became sick. She did earn it, by giving him her trust. He made a decision.

Michael watched me for a minute, and tilted his head. He stood up, then walked slowly towards me. My smile faded, and my eyes turned cautious. The sight of him taking ghostly steps, while hearing his boots echo towards me, was still very frightening. Once he reached me, his hands grabbed my wrists, and pulled me up. I once again gasped at his touch, which was possesive, and bruising. He let go of my right wrist, but held on to my left. I looked down at his hand squeezing me, and winced in pain. He noticed this and loosened his grip, but still held on tight. I stared up at him with fearful eyes.

**"What are you doing?"** I asked defensively.

He didn't even look at me. He started walking, dragging me with him. He stopped short infront of the entable, then opened the droor. His hand reached in and claimed the large kitched knife, holding it with power. Out of all the things that I've seen Michael do, this was the most natural thing for him. He looked so comfortable doing this, as if it was normal. My eyes were wide as I looked up at him. His eyes softened, and he lowered the knife, letting me know that he means no harm. Then he walked to the bed, and draped my comfortor over my shoulder.

He started walking again, while I stumbled along with him. Before I knew it, we were headed through the hallway. I gave him a quizzical expression.

**"Where are we going?" **I exlaimed. He kept his head looking straight, ignoring my question.

I watched the pipes along the ceiling lead us through the tunnels. My feet were cold from walking on the damp wet floor. It got darker and darker as we walked deeper in the tunnels. Suddenly, it got so dark I couldn't see anything. Michaels' steps were confident and firm, as mine became hesitant while trying to keep up with him. How does he know where he's going, how can he see? He made a few turns, while whipping me along with him by my wrist. Every so often I would whimper and ask him to slow down. But he didn't acknowledge me.

Suddenly he slowed down, and stopped. I breathed frantically, waiting for his next move. I heard him taking steps, while my wrist began to pull up after him. Then I couldn't feel his body by me, only his hand around my wrist. Suddenly his other hand grabbed me and pulled me up. My feet rubbed agaist metal bars as I was being lifted. I realised that it was a ladder. How could I have slept through all of this when he brought me down? Wow, I'm never taking Nyquil again!

When he placed me down, and I was standing up straight, he let go of my side, but kept holding my wrist. I heard the sound of wood scraping, and started to see light peak through a crack in the wall. The crease in the wall opened all the way to reveal a basement. It was very dark, but had one ray of sunlight comming through a tiny window, which was more light then the sewers. I looked around and saw that it was empty. The only thing that was down here was cobwebs, and a few old tool boxes. It looked oddly farmiliar. He walked through the opening and I slowly followed. Once we got in, he let go of my wrist, letting the circulation flow back into my arm. I took another look around in astonishment as I realised that it was my basement!

As I turned to look at Michael, I saw him pushing the wood back in place. I stared at the wall as I tried to find the crack from the wood, but I couldn't see anything. It was a hidden doorway! I've been underneath the house this whole time! Dr. Loomis was right, Michael Myers was living in his house for 2 years. I stared at Michael in amazement.

**"You are the most fascinating man I've ever met." **I said, while shaking my head in disbeleif. He stared back blankly.

I continued to look at him with amazement for a while, then he turned his head to the stairs, gesturing me to go up. I looked at the stairs with anticipation.

**"You want me to go up there?" **I asked for reassurance.

He lifted his hand to my back and pushed me lightly. I stumbled and gave him a dirty look.

**"Okay, I'm going!" **I said with irritation as I walked towards the stairs.

Each step was exhausting, I had not moved my muscles like this in days. I could feel Michael close behind me, making sure I was not going to run. Once I finally reached the last step, I slowly opened the door. The sunlight hit me, making me feel warm and alive. I took in a deep breath of fresh air. Joy took over me, I walked to the middle of the living room, and twirled around. My hair swung behind me, and my night gown twirled around. I took in the warmth of the sun, letting it shine on me. I had the biggest smile on my face. I was free! I never thought I would get out of the sewers.

Michael watched as she twirled around. The smile on her face was radiant. This was the first time he ever saw her be happy. It made him feel pleased. His mouth barely twitched, and he was thankful that he was wearing his mask. Was he about to smile? No. He doesn't do that. He quickly recovered and gave blank stare to become the shape again.

When I was done celebrating, I realised that my hair was greasy, and my body was tense. I looked over at Michael, who was watching me with interest.

**"Michael. Can I use your bathroom? I need to take a shower." **I asked, since I no longer felt like it was my house, considering that Michael still lives here.

Michael looked at the stairs, then back at me, motioning me to go upstairs. I started to walk towards them, when I heard a knock at the door. With out a warning, Michael grabbed me, and pulled me backward. I didn't even know what was happening when he shut the closet door infront of us. He was behind me, holding my mouth, while his other hand held the knife to my throat. I could feel the blade touching my skin, threatening me not to scream. If that was his way of telling me not to talk, then he succeeded. Another knock was at the door, followed by a farmiliar voice, yelling in a worried tone.

**"Amy? Amy are you in there? I thought I saw movement! I haven't seen you in days. Are you alright?" **

Dr. Loomis! He was watching over me. I knew I had a reason to feel safe around him. He was right. Everybody else thought he was a looney, but he saw the real world. He knew what was going on, while others just brushed it off, including myself.

I could feel Michaels' body tense, ready to cut me if I made a move. I was so scared I couldn't even breath. I could not believe that he would threaten me after our connection. Then again, I was stupid to think anything else from a killer.

The door knocked again. **"I'm going to come back later today. If you don't answer ,I'm comming in!" **He yelled.

Michael tightened his grip on my mouth, pulling my head closer into his chest, claiming me. Obviously he didn't like that Dr. Loomis was trying to check up on me. For him, it was an act of friendship, but for me, it was disturbing. I heard Dr. Loomis open and shut the car door behind him. Then the car started. Once he drove off and we couldn't here the engine anymore, he released me. The closet door opened, and he pushed me into the living room. I fell forward, letting out my breath as I caught myself on the couch. Then I turned my head, and glared at him.

**"Stop pushing me like that!"**

He just stared at me.

**"What was that? I said NO cutting!" **I yelled with authority.

As I glared at him, I noticed that his eyes became the slightest bit disappointed. Was he upset with himself? Great, I yelled at a murderer like he was a child. How smart am I? Then his eyes quickly turned back into a blank stare, as if he didn't even put a knife to my throat. I shook my head at him.

**"Listen Michael, your gonna have to trust me. I said I would be your friend. I won't let anybody know about you, or hurt you. If this is going to work, your going to have to trust me." **I commanded, as I tried compromising with the boogeyman.

Stupidly, I wasn't lying. I wouldn't tell anybody about him. I would go to work, and return back to him, as if he had some type of dominant spell on me. But I knew the truth, there was no spell. It was my choice to come back. I felt sick, and discusted with myself.

Michael knew that she was not lying. He always knew if a person was telling the truth or not. It was a part of being the shape. But still, he had to cautious.

He stared hard at me for a moment, taking in my words. Then he gave a single nod. Yeah, I've seen that before. Put him in a bad situation again, and he would act hostile. I guess I can't win with him. I have to be patient. I have no choice. I sighed in irritaion.

**"I'm going to take a shower now. Can I trust you not to come in?"** I asked firmly. He looked confused, and suspiscious.

**"Michael, Im gonna be.. naked." **I said as my cheeks flushed pink.

His eyes widened for a second, almost unnoticable. Maybe I imagined it. My eyes were still getting used to the light, anyway. He still looked cautious.

**"You can wait by the door. If you hear me trying to escape, you can come in. But I don't feel comfortable. Please."** I pleaded.

I looked up at him, with my eyes begging for his approval. He looked down at me, studying my expression, then he gave a light push towards the stairs. It wasn't as violent as usual. I guess he decided to listen to me. I didn't expect him to stop pushing me completely. I mean, it's the only way he can show me where he wants me to go with out talking.

I walked up the stairs, unsure of his answer. Once I got to the last step, I walked in my, well Michaels' room, grabbed a towel and a change of clothes, then walked to the bathroom. Michael was barely a foot behind the whole time. Once I walked in the bathroom, I turned around to see Michael standing outside the door, waiting for me to close it. I gave him a thankful smile.

**"Thank you." **I said appreciatively.

Then I shut the door, and turned to the shower.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**I'm sorry I took so long to update. I always said "I would never be one of those writers who stops the story from writers block." But it happened. I will not do that again! It's a little bit shorter than the rest of the chapters, but I had to end it on a good part. Enjoy! **

As I got undressed, I avoided looking in the mirror. If I looked anything like I felt, it would be a horrifying sight. My bones were sore, my skin was pale, and I could feel the pressure of my head pounding. While brushing my hands through my hair, I could feel the dry, greesy texture that resembled hay. I had to get cleaned up fast!

The shower curtain was off white, with pale patches from fading over the years. I pulled it open to reveal a rusty tub with an old shower head that had yellow stains going down the wall. I would have been discusted, but considering that I've been locked in a sewer for a few days, this didn't seem so bad. I stepped in, turning the knob real hard. It squeaked loudly as the water turned on. I adjusted the temperature to almost the hottest it could go. As the water hit my back, I took in the way the warmth loosened my muscles. The water hydrated my skin, bringing me back to life. I stood there, closing my eyes. I was so relaxed. Then I remembered that Michael was waiting outside. I looked at the door every 5 seconds, to make sure that he did not come in. Michael putting a knife to my throat when Dr. Loomis knocked on the door, really made me not trust him.

I scrubbed my body down, making sure to remove every inch of the days of dirt piled on my skin. I put on shampoo, and conditioner, massaging my scalp. Then I took one more rinse in the shower, feeling the warm water pour down on me, loosening my tense posture. I stepped out, feeling like a brand new person. I wiped down the fog off of the mirror, and plugged in the hair dryer. As the hot air blew on my face flowing my hair, I realised that I took the freedom of pampuring myself for granted. I used to think that it was such a pain to waste time getting ready. But I now know that this was an everyday privilege.

I blowed my hair straight, then curled it out at the end. I could feel the difference as I brushed my hands through. It was soft, and thick, the way that I usually kept it. I put on my black baggy sweat pants, and tight fitted pink tshirt. Then I brushed my teeth, and applied lipgloss on. I now looked like Amy again, I couldn't help but smile lightly in the mirror. Then I realised that I would have to face Michael when I got out. A ping of fear took over as I came to realization that this would be my new life, for as long as he lets me live. The smile faded, and I tore my body in the direction of the door, walking towards my gloom.

I opened the door and jumped to see Michael standing there, staring down at me. His eyes traveled around slowly as he looked over my face, hair, and clothes. Then he blinked, flashing his black eyes back at mine. I caught my breath not sure to be afraid, or confused. Either way, the stare he gave was intimidating. The phone rang, interupting our awkward staring contest. My head quickly snapped in the direction of my room where the phone was located. Michael just stared at me with warning in his eyes. I looked up at him for approval.

**"Please let me get this." **I whispered.

He continued to look at me firmly.

**"If you think that I might say something bad, you can hang up and bring me back in the sewers.. Please." **I pleaded.

The phone rang again, announcing its end. I stared at Michael with anticipation. He loosened his stance and looked in the room. I could tell that he was annoyed, but I still took the chance to walk into the room and quickly answer the phone in its mid-ring.

**"Hello?" **I said cautiosly.

**"Hey, Amy. It's Mr. Bradley. It's about time you answered." **He paused waiting for a response, but I was so nerveous, all I could let out was a half sigh, half laugh.

**"You haven't been to work in two days! Are you okay? Where have you been?" **He attacked.

I finally put it all together. I was in the sewers for 4 days. It felt so much longer than it really was. Like a hell that made time go eternally slow. I wasn't prepared for this, I had to come up with a lie. I could see Michaels' shadow hovering over me, threatening to hurt me if I said anything wrong, or gave anything away. I was pannicking. Finally I gathered up the courage to come up with a reasonable explaination.

**"I'm okay. I was having trouble sleeping, so the doctor gave me medicine. I didn't know that it would make me completely pass out for days. I should have called you. I'm sorry."** I trailed off, knowing that he didn't care what excuse I had.

**"It's okay Amy, but you better not have this problem again in the future." **He scoweled.

**"I won't." **I said assuringly.

**"You can take the rest of the day off to relax. But tomorrow, we will talk about this." **He demanded.

**"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." **Click. He hung up with out a goodbye.

I stared at the phone, completely ashamed. I sighed as I hung it up.

**"I just got my boss to notice all of my hard work. Now I have to start all over again." **I hung my head with disappointment.

Michael didn't understand why Amy was so upset. Why did people even need a job? He got all he wanted right here. A bed in the sewers, he ate animals when he needed to, and drank water from the faucet. It didn't make sense to him why people cared about others things in life. Infact, he didn't care about life at all. He was cut off in thought when Amy spoke.

**"Michael, are you going to let me out of this house?"**

Michael tensed, and his eyes hardened furiously. I could feel the anger comming from him. I had to find a way to make him trust me. Although logic told me to run the first chance I get, the reckless side of me knew that I would go to work, then return to Michael with out a word to anyone. He would kill me anyway, what choice do I have? There was no way I could return with complete free will. It has to be because I'm under his control. I wouldn't choose to come back. I kept telling myself over and over again.

Even though I was still held captive, this was free compared to being in the sewers. Now I could shower, cook, make coffee. With that thought, my face light up. I hopped up and turned to face Michael. He immediatly took a step closer and stared down at me defensively. I forgot, I can't make sudden movements around Michael. He is a killer that is not used to being around other people.

**"I'm sorry. I just want to go to the kitchen. I'm hungry." **Giving him a fearful expression. His eyes softened and he took a step back, giving me room to walk by. I looked at the stairs, then back at him for assurance. He returned the gesture, giving me the okay. I let out a sigh, as if saying "thank you". I had an eery feeling that he was close behind me, boring his eyes in the back of my head. I shakily made my way down the stairs, trying to ignore it.

When I got to the kitchen, I went straight to the refrigerator. I took out chicken cutlets and fried them on a pan. I added sauce, and boiled noodles. My stomach growled with anticipation of a "real meal". Michael watched curiously as I layed out two plates on the table, then placed the bowl of food in the middle. I sat down to make a plate of food, while he stood there, staring at the food. I motioned for him to sit down.

**"I made enough for you too, sit down." **I said kindly. He didn't move. **"Okay, what ever." **I said dryly.

I was about to take a bite, when I noticed Michael staring down at me, watching my every move. I became nerveous, and agitated.

**"Can you atleast sit down?"** I spat, pulling out the chair for him. I would feel much better if I was at eye level with him, and not being towered over like a teacher checking up on a student, a killer teacher with a knife in their hand. He looked down at the chair for a minute, then sat down. I relaxed and started to eat, while he watched the whole time.

**"Do you eat?" **I asked, I mentally kicked myself for asking a stupid question.

**"What do you eat?"** I corrected myself.

He looked at the window, I followed his gaze to see a dog sitting on the neighbors' back porch. My eyes widened, and I yelled, **"A dog?" **in disbelief. He tilted his head, as if he didn't understand my outraged expression. I felt bad. He didn't think it was weird. After all, he kills people, why not eat mans best friend. They're just animals like a cow, or a chicken.

**"I don't like dogs anyway." **I said casually, trying to cover up me reaction. He straighten his head and blinked in response. I couldn't help but smile. The situation was kind of funny, and his reaction was even more humorous, in a phsyco kind of way. What is wrong with me? I shook my head as I sat up, bringing the dishes to the sink.

Michael sat up with me, and was a step behind me the whole time. I turned to look at him. It was the first time I got a good look in the light. His uniform was a dark navy blue, it almost looked black in the sewers. His shoulders were broad, His arms and chest were firm. His stomach was flat, and his hips were narrow. The collar of the uniform wasn't buttoned all the way, it showed the top of his chest, and a little of his neck underneath his mask. Aside from being a killer, he was kind of attractive. His eyes shown a hint of brown in the light. Though, his pupils were still a deep dark black, that were sucking me in once again, with extra force this time. It was so intense that I had to turn around to get away from it. I started to make coffee to keep myself distracted.

When Amy turned around, he was in view of her whole body. Her hair was thick and shiny. It hung down her back that led to her tight shirt and lowrise pants. It exposed the flesh of her back, and waist. Michael felt that familiar pressure again. He didn't understand it, but what ever his body told him to do, he would do.

Michael stalked over closer to her. He reached out and brushed his fingers along her back. It felt so soft. He mesmerized every arche and curve of her back as he rubbed from the left side of her hip, to the right.

I shivered at his touch. It was so unexpected, I didn't even hear him come up behind me. Here we go again, another touching inspection. He must be curious about my exposed skin. Oh my god! How stupid can I be? I wore a shirt that shows my stomache, a perfect way to show him a vulnerable place to stab. I froze under his touch as he brushed his fingers back and forth slowly. I was extremely frightened. At any moment he could reach for the knife that was placed on the counter right beside me, or he could simply just crush me with his hands, the ones that are on my back right now. The more I thought about his power, the more exciting it became. I was actually getting hot from this. I felt a rush of adreniline as I felt his touch. I arched my back, and whipped my head back on his chest. I could feel his rubber mask against my head.

Michael instantly reacted by letting out a loud, deep breath. He grabbed my hips and pushed me into the counter. My hip bones ached from the impact, followed by another crash into the counter. This time he used his lower body to push me. The pain quickly faded when I realised that he was pinning me against the counter with his body. And I could feel that he was aroused. My breathing was uneven. I could not believe that Michael Myers was sexually attracted to me. From what I knew, he didn't feel anything. He was emotionless. This was his first time touching someone like this. My eyes widened. That means that he is unpredictable. He could be very dangerous. He could hurt me in the process, or kill me! I tensed up, feeling his breathing against my ear. I was sick to be pleasured in the first place. This is wrong. I was about to protest, when he turned me over, picked me up, and placed me on the counter. He stood inbetween my legs, pressing himself into me. I was dizzy, unable to think straight while his hypnotic eyes possessed me._ Ohh.. It feels so.. No! I cannot feel this way about him. He's a killer!_

I turned my pleasured expression to serious as I started to say. **"Michael."** He put his hand over my mouth, pushing me back, laying me down on the counter. If it weren't for the clothes, he would be controling me right now. I closed my eyes and moaned into his hand. Michaels' eyes widened. He buckled his hips and thrust against me, letting out a low grunt. My wolrd spun around, leaving me breathless. I can't keep losing focus. I have to stop before this gets out of hand. Struggling against him would only anger him. I have to be calm, and rational about this.

I looked into the devils' eyes that held a passionate, yet sadistic gaze. Once again, I had to gain strength. I put my hand over his very gently, and gave him a look of reason. He stared down at our hands over lapping eachother. Then looked down at our bodies touching. His eyes went from exotic, to bewildered. He backed up and stared at the floor, deep in thought for a few moments. His expression changed from wild, to horrified in that second. It made me nerveous.

Michael did not know why he was having these feelings. This girl was making him vulnerable. He did not experience feelings. Even when he kills, he's emotionless and blank. But her body, the sight of her, the scent of her, her voice, it made a muscle tense that he never felt before. When he pushed himself to her, it was the most warm, powerful experience he ever felt in his whole life. It was uncontrolable, and frustrating. He did not know what he was going to do, or what it even meant. He saw other people doing this on the nights that he stalked and killed on Halloween. They were weak, defenseless people who paid no attention to the dangers that surrounded them. He could not be like that. He had to be alert. He didn't stop because she wanted him to, he stopped because he was angry at his emotions.

I sat on the counter frozen. I couldn't move if I tried. I was in shock. _What just happened? What did he do? And more importantly, did I like it? _The thoughts in my head ran furiously. I looked over to see him staring intensely at the floor, with his fist clenched. I decided to keep quiet, and not set him off.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Michaels' head snapped up, and he grabbed the butcher knife on the counter beside me.

**"Michael, put the knife down."** I said very calmly.

He didn't even look at me, he just kept his eyes at the door. The door knocked and I heard Dr. Loomis call out,** "Amy, I see your lights on. I just want to make sure everything is alright." **He paused to hear a response.

I looked at Michael, trying to reason with him.

**"Please let me get this. He'll just come in if I don't answer. You have to trust me." **He didn't take his eyes off the door. Another knock followed.

**"I'm comming in to check up on you." **Dr. Loomis warned.

My heart was pounding, I looked at Michael with pannic in my eyes. **"Please." **I whispered. He turned and stared back at me. His glare turned calm as he took in the desperation on my face.

I heard the door knob turning, and whipped my head to see the door banging. When I looked back, Michael was gone. I stared at the spot he was standing, and tried to come up with a logical reason for how he could dissapear so fast. I would have been more baffled, but I didn't have time to care since Dr. Loomis was standing outside of my door trying to break in. I took the time to answer the door, before Dr. Loomis broke the lock.

**Okay everyone! I know that this chapter was short, but I already have chapter 9 halfway written. So it will be up shortly! Review, tell me what you think about this chapter! Thank you. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Thank you to everyone who reviews everytime I update! I'm so happy to know that you're still with me! And also, thank you to all of the new people reading the story! It's awesome that people share the same interest as me! **

I opened the door to see a very worried man with a frantic look on his face. I must have frightened him because he brought a gun towards me. I gasped and stepped back. He looked surprised when he realised that it was just me, and lowered the gun immediatly.

**"Amy! I'm sorry. I was just using this for protection." **He assured, with an embarressed look on his face.

I caught my breath, and spoke with a hint of humor, **"Um, I didn't mean to scare you Dr. Loomis. Although, you showing up at my house with a gun to my head makes us even." **

He looked at the gun, while putting the safetly lock on. Then hid it in his pocket, returning his eyes back on me with sympathy.

**"I thought something terrible happened. I wanted to be prepared." **He explained.

Any other time, I would have thought he was crazy and called the cops. But after being held as a prisioner in the sewers under my house, I knew that he had every right to carry a gun in this house.

**"It's okay." **I said as I loosened my frightened expression.

**"Listen Amy, I have something to tell you.. Some questions to ask. May I come in?" **He asked with persistance.

I closed the door a little as I looked back for Michael. He wasn't there, so I figured it was safe. If I told him no, he would be suspiscious. And besides, he has a gun, he's protected. I opened the door and gave him a smile.

**"Yeah, come in." **I gestured for him to sit on the couch.

He smiled back with thankful eyes, then looked cautiously around the room while entering. Even as he sat on the couch, he didn't seem comfortable. He knew that Michael was here, watching him. I sat down, making the vibe more casual.

**"I was worried about you. I haven't seen you in days."** he commented.

**"Yeah, I've been out. My friends picked me up, and I just got back this morning."** I lied, while explaining why my car was here and I was not.

He let out a sigh of relief. **"Ofcourse." **he claimed. Then his expression became serious again.

**"Listen I want to tell you that Your realitor, Ben is missing. The cops came here for questioning, since he was last seen at this house. You weren't here, but they didn't think it was serious enough to report you missing aswell."** He trailed off.

My stomache tightened. I felt like I was going to throw up, I couln't even comprehend any of his words anymore. All I thought of was how worried Ben sounded on the phone. I knew that he was a killer, but it didn't hit me until now. I looked up to see Dr. Loomis staring skeptically at me, viewing my reaction. I just sat there and stared back, not even seeing anything. Seconds seemes like hours. Finally I was able to open my mouth.

**"Oh my god. I can't believe so much has happened.." **I whispered, in complete shock. **"I moved in a few days ago, someone is missing, and the cops are at my door!" **I exclaimed.

**"Now, none of this is your fault. Your not in any trouble. The police know this house very well, and they know who owned it. I just have a few questions if you will answer." **He looked at me with encouraging eyes.

I was still in my tranze, but was able to whisper, **"Yeah."**

**"Did you see Ben at the house?" **He questioned.

I stared at him, trying to ignore the nausea in my stomache. My silence was only making him suspicious. How am I going to lie to a therapist that studies in human reactions? I gulped and tried to speak camly while I came up with a believable lie.

**"No. When I spoke to him on the phone, he said he was in a cab. He sounded pretty angry, It must have been work related, or he might have had problems at home" **I said casually. While staring at the floor, as if I was trying to remember the phone conversation.

The pit of my stomache was twirling into knots. I just lied for Michael. He's a serial killer, a cold blooded murderer. I am just as bad as he is! Even worse! I was on the verge of throwing up. I had to think about something else, there was no way I could cover up my anxiety. He looked at me with a quizical expression. I could feel him over looking my reaction.

**"Yes, I suppose so. But I am afraid that this house might be the cause of his disappearance. And that puts you into danger."** He said firmly.

He was wrong. I was way past danger. I am captive, held in this house by the Boogeymans' command. There was nothing Dr. Loomis could do now. Even if he took me out of the house, Michael would come after me.

**"Bens' disappearance is very unsettling, and I will do anything I can to help find him. But I don't think that this house has anything to do with it. Sure it is creepy, but it's been very inviting." **I assured.

His eyes grew confused. **"Inviting? I've never heard that word used towards this house." **he remarked.

**"Sure, it's got creepy its moments, but I've been relaxed here. Things have been quiet, and peaceful."** I explained with a pleasant look upon my face.

The look he gave me was so judgemental, I felt like I was being analyzed for a lying test. I had to change the subject before I broke down.

**"Dr. Loomis."** I blurted out**. "You were Michaels' therapist for 15 years.." **I hesitated. Maybe this was a stupid idea, I might give away more than I intended.

He looked back with anticipation, obviously wanting to talk about this subject. I stared back nervously, then he nodded his head for me to go on.

**"I read that he was emotionless, but.. did he ever show any signs of reactions, or responses?" **I asked curiously.

He seemed surprised by my question. He looked over my shoulder and stared off into the wall, as if imagining the years of therapy with Michael as he described it.

**"In the years that I knew Michael, he wasn't responsive. He just stared at the wall emotionless, as if he was seeing something I couldn't. I would speak to him, and he would just continue to stare, nothing around him was immportant but what he saw past that wall." **Then he paused and stared at the floor as if he was remembering something. **"The only time I saw him react was when he escaped. He made this move, tilting his head to the side as an act of confusion, or interest as if he was viewing his work."** He had the most curious look on his face while he described it.

I unconsciously smiled. I remembered the few times that he had done that. It was actually kind of cute. Then I remembered what Michael had done, and I shook it out of my head. Michael Myers is not cute. He's a horrifying man that kills ruthlessly. But then why did he show me little glints of emotion? He couldn't have done it for just me. There had to have been some human emotion shown towards Dr. Loomis.

**"You mean, he didn't even nod, or show anything in his eyes?"** I questioned.

He looked hard at me as he answered,** "No." **

I was astonished. Michael nodded in response, pionted to things, even pushed me. And there was something in his eyes when he looked at me. It was hard to see, but deep down there was something. Dr. Loomis interupted my thoughts.

**"Why are you asking me these questions?" **He said, staring at me with extreme focus.

I quickly changed my expression, and innocently shook my head. **"It's just that being in this house brings up alot of questions." **I explained.

**"I can see why you would be interested. This house has alot of history. A girl like you shouldn't be living here. Especially alone." **He scowled at me, as if giving fatherly advise.

I was actually flattered by that. I haven't felt that sense of care in a while. It made my nausea go away a little. He sensed that something dangerous was around, and wanted to keep me safe. Even though Michael was not safe, and very dangerous, something told me that I would be okay. And it was safer to keep Michaels' secret to myself. I stared back at the kind man and felt at ease. I had to let him know that I will be fine.

**"A girl like me prefers to be alone."** I explained. Then I looked around the house, **"And I'll be fine. Even if something does happen, or '**_**Michael Myers comes alive**_**', I will call you."** I said with extreme humor.

He looked annoyed at my reaction. He rolled his eyes and shook his head in dissaproval.

**"This is serious. Little kids like you get hurt. You don't know how many innocent people died two years ago because they wouldn't listen to me!" **He exlaimed.

My mouth dropped. I was not expecting him to get so mad about this. Then I remembered the newspapers down in the sewers. The names, and the ages of all the victims he killed that night. Dr. Loomis was there to witness it all. I looked back with grieving eyes.

**"I'm so sorry. I know that it has been hard these years. But you need to know that it is okay. And I am serious, if anything does happen, I am thankful to have you here. And you will be the first person I call. But everything is okay. I promise, this house will be quiet, and danger free."** I assured with a sincere smile.

He lightened his anger, and shook his head. **"Young lady, you better be right**.**"** He answered.

**"Look, Dr. Loomis, I still have alot of unpacking to do, and I am very tired. Leave your number, and I will call if I need your help, or if I find anything out about Ben." **I attempted to make him more relaxed as I handed him a paper and a pen.

**"Very well." **He began to write down his number, then placed it on the entable.

I walked him to the door and opened it for him. He came to a stop, then looked around the house and back at me with worry. I gave him a nod out of courtesy.

**"I promise, I'll call." **I assured one more time.

**"Let's hope you get to the phone in time." **He remarked, darkly. Leaving me standing there shocked. Then he hesitated one more time before giving a forced smile and leaving.

I shut the door slowly, feeling like a ghost. There was too much information thrown on me in one day. I am stuck in this house, my job is in the jeopardy, and Ben.. Here comes the nausea. As if on cue, I felt Michaels' presence behind me. I didn't even turn to look at him, I just stood there breathless like a zombie.

**"You killed Ben." **I was finally able to say in a lifeless tone.

I could hear his breathing echoing from behind me. I turned to face the monster that stood in the hallway. There he was. The murderer that killed so many lives, a life that I knew. Just standing there as if nothing happened. I shook my head in distaste as I looked into his deep dark eyes.

**"You don't even think that you did anything."** I said in disbelief. He just stood there, blank.

**"It's wrong! Killing people is wrong!"** I shouted. His eyes still remained blank, no care at all.

I was so heated that all I could do was laugh dryly with anger.

**"You killed Ben, and you're going to kill so many more people. And I'm just gonna sit here and lie for you. I'm just as bad as you are. But that doesn't even matter does it?" **I shouted with more emotion this time. I would have been crying, but my face was so numb from shock, that I didn't even feel anything.

Michael was pleased to know that Amy did not tell Dr. Loomis about his presence in the house. He was expecting her to slip, making him kill Dr. Loomis, and take her back in the sewers. But she did not even give him a reason to show any harm. She did however, ask questions about him. Which, he was unsure how he felt about that. Dr. Loomis never gave any possitive answers when he spoke of him. Though he liked being described as a strong danger, he did not want Amy to be completely fearful of him.

Now that she stands infront of him, trembling, yelling from all kinds of emotion, he couldn't help but feel emotion himself, though he will not show it. He felt supported from her, but also guilty that she was now involved. This was even more bizarre than the physical feelings she gave him. This was deep, and emotional. He did not like it. But once again, he could not shake it off. He had to admitt that this girl was different from every other human being. He would put up with her fits, and take care of her for ever.

Michaels' eyes shown a hint of sympathy, but then darkened as soon as I noticed. He went to take a step towards me, then I stopped him by yelling again.

**"And what was that?" **I said pointing to the kitchen.

He followed my gesture, then looked back at me innocently.

**"Michael. I don't know what that was, or what that even meant. But I'm going to ask two things from you. One, please try to keep your hands to yourself, and two, no killing infront of me. I don't want to know, Okay?" **I said seriously. Even though I knew it was wrong for him to touch me like that, it was even more unacceptable for me to like it. I had to stop it before I could even think that again.

He shifted his eyes to my feet, then trailed up, looking over my whole body. Once he got back to my eyes, he tiled his head, deep in thought about my requests. I was trying to remain serious, but his gesture made me crack a smile. Once I smiled, I could help but let out a short laugh.

Michael viewed her body, trying to imagine not touching her again. Would it be possible? Then he straightened his head, and stared in confusion at her. Why is she laughing? Did I make her laugh? Through the confusion, he couldn't help but feel a tug at his chest while viewing her smile. The sound of her laughter was pleasant. There goes another foreign feeling.

**"I'm sorry. I like when you do that.. It shows me that you understand." **I said. He gave me an unreadable stare. Maybe it was thankful, or flattered?

I slowly removed my smile and became serious again. Even though I had that quick humorous moment with him, it still didn't take away the fact that he killed someone, and I covered for him. I had to atleast remain a little strong. I walked towards the stairs and spoke casually.

**"I'm going to look through my bags, and see what I packed."**

I walked up the stairs with out even giving him a second glance. Michael followed behind with out a sound. Not even a creak on the floor board.

**I know, not an interesting chapter. But I have to give some details. I promise that this story is going somewhere. But not every chapter can be spicey. Also, if there are any writers, write a Halloween fanfic! We need to keep this chain larger! Especially since a new Halloween is releasing this upcoming October! = O**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**Here is chapter 10! I have a few chapters already plotted out, so I was able to just type it up. Enjoy! **

Most of the day was spent sitting around, looking through my bags. For the most part, I avoided Michael, though it was hard since he stayed in the room the whole time watching me. The only time I spoke to him or even looked at him was when I asked for his permission to unpack my stuff. Though I was still angry, I had to make sure that it was okay. I huffed before I looked at him, showing that I was annoyed. Yet, I still kept my voice small from being nervous about the question I was going to ask. It was awkward, I was movinng my stuff in his room.

**"Michael." **I said quietly.

He looked surprised that I talked. I guess that I was quiet for too long. Maybe he thought I was going to ignore him all night. This made me feel a little bad, which was ludacris. But yet, I still had to be a little nicer. I did after all, take his house. Which made me feel weird about asking this question. It was as if I was asking a boyfriend to move my stuff in his room and bathroom. I gulped before I spoke.

**"Can I unpack my stuff, and put it in my dresser?"** I asked with an awkward expression on my face.

His eyes darted to my dresser, then at my clothes. For a split second they darkened with anger. I felt myself shrink in the bed where I sat. I got myself into an even bigger mess. The only thing I could do was try to fix the situation.

**"I'm sorry. I'll leave. I'll take my stuff and get out of here. I didn't mean to take your house!" **I pleaded.

Then he looked at me, and the anger faded to something I could not tell. But it wasn't negative. It looked friendly. He looked at the dresser and gave a single nod, very slowly. I relaxed, and gave him a smile as I got up.

**"Thanks Michael."** I said as I got up and brought the bag of clothes to the dresser.

It got late as I finished putting my clothes away. I still had other stuff such as make up, jewlery boxes, and books to put away. But I was starting to get tired, so this was all for tonight. I yawned as I closed the door. I looked over the empty boxes on the floor, and finally felt as if this room was beginning to be my own. If Michael didn't still live here, it would have been. But I was sharing it with him. Back to awkward. I sat on My bed and began to lay down. I was about to ask Michael if I could go to sleep, when I saw him looking through my stuff. I was apalled.

**"Michael, what are you.." **before I could finish my sentence, he pulled out a photo album. He opened it up, and tilted his head.

**"Oh. That's just pictures of my family, and old friends. Here, put it on the bed so we can both look through it." **I moved over and patted for him to sit down.

He looked at me, then walked slowly towards the bed. Once he stood infront of me, I reached my hand out and gave him a look, asking for permission to put in on the bed. He returned to answer by giving me the album, and slowly sitting down. I was laying on my stomach, as I turned the page to the begining, while he sat next to me, looking down at the album.

The first picture was of my 1st birthday. I was sitting in a chair with cake all over my face, and my mom was holding me up straight, with a napkin in her hand laughing. Michael was looking at the baby with question in his eyes.

**"That's me on my first birthday. And that's my mom." **I said.

He pointed to the next picture of two little girls, a brunette, and a dirty blonde.

**"That's my sister and I at the pool. I was 5, and she was 4."** I answered.

He looked at me, then pointed to the dirty blonde.

**"Yeah, that's me." **I laughed.

I only explained the ones he pointed to. There wasn't anything I would have voluntarily told him. We came across a picture of me sitting on a tree branch at a park, wearing a white sun dress, with a white flower in my hair. He pointed to it, and looked at me, waiting for a story.

**"That's me at a park. I was 6 years old. The same age as you were in the picture from the newspaper you left me on my bed." **I rolled over, picked the paper up and read the information, which included his birthdate. **"Oh. You're 23 years old. I'm two years younger than you, 21." **I smiled, then looked at his face in the picture. **"You were the most adorable little boy I have ever seen." **I couldn't even keep it to myself, I had to say it outloud. I wanted him to know, he deserves to hear something about himself besides death.

His eyes became soft. I could feel his body loosen, as if he was relaxed by my words. I felt a tinge of saddness. Surely he never got many compliments. I was happy to make him feel good. I decided to brush it off, being sure not to make him feel uncomfortable by my action. I turned the page to the next picture. When I looked up, he was still staring warmly at me. I was so proud to make him feel that way. It was so touching. He obviously never heard that before. I had to look away before I got too emotional.

Michael couldn't move from his gaze. For the first time since he was 5, he felt compassion. She accepted him as a person, and treated him like a friend. Even the doctors at Smiths' Grove didn't talk to him the way Amy talked to him. She spoke out, and complimented him as a human being, with out judging him, or trying to figure him out. Moments went by, and he realised that he was showing too much emotion. He quickly snapped out of it and pointed to another picture.

As she got older in each picture, she began to look more and more unhappy. Her family and friends looked like they were having fun, but Amys' smile was forced. Even her voice began to lose interest as she described the pictures. Pages flipped by with the same people in different places and events. Michael didn't really care about the other people. He just continued to point to her in every picture, wanting to know where she was, and why she was wearing certain outfits such as dresses, or costumes.

Then he came across a picture that made his skin turn ice cold. The blood boiled in his hands, needing to strangle something, or reach for his knife. A man around Amy's age was standing behind her with is arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, leaning against a fence. He was still as a statue. His hands clenched into fists. Amy gasped when she saw the picture.

Oh My god. I can't believe this picture is in here! My mom must have put it in before I left to "remind me of what I missed out on" or in other words, what she missed out on. I was over come with anger at her stuborness. But then Michaels' hand shot to the picture, pointing at the man. It was the first time he pointed to someone besides me. He was staring intently at him with a look so lethal. I have never seen him stare at anything with such hatred. It was almost as if he was going to kill right then.

I had to explain the picture fast. Though, I didn't like talking about it, and I didn't know Michael well enough to share this, I had to do it. I was obviously taking too long, because he stabbed his finger at the photo again impatiently. I jumped and gasped at his action. Then hurried with an explination.

**"I don't really like to talk about this. It's not really important to me." **I looked down at the pretty boy with light brown hair, and green/blue eyes. The kind of guy you would see on an Abercrombie cover. Any other girl would have been happy with him, but I wasn't. I sighed, and got ready to explain.

**"That's Tyler. He was my boyfriend for two years." **Michaels' eyes narrowed fiercely. I then realised how possesive Michael was over me. He was way too angry over a picture. This "friendship" wasn't only dangerous for me, but also for everyone else around me. I had to stay away from everybody, and keep them safe. I quickly continued my story, to calm him down.

**"I never really liked him. I guess I was just with him to make everybody else happy. We had the same group of friends, so it worked out for a while. My family thought he was great, and my friends labelled us together. So I just went along with it to be normal."** I explained.

I remembered my moms words, "Amy, he's going to graduate school. He's becomming a doctor!" And my friends complaints, "Oh my god, he's so hot! I don't know why you hesitate. If he wasn't totally stuck on you, we would sweep him away." I rolled my eyes at the thought. Then I continued.

**"Anyway, about six months ago he asked me to marry him." **Michaels' whole body tightened. I could see the furry comming off of him. It made the hairs on my body stand up. I quickly recovered.

**"He asked me to marry him, and I ran." **He relaxed as he realised that I refused the offer. **"In that one question, I saw my whole life flash before my eyes. My whole life, I spent trying to be normal, but I realised that I'm not normal. I don't fit in, and I don't want to. I started to be myself." **A triumphant smile spread across my face.

**"I lost alot of friends, and my family was dissapointed in me. I came to realise that I needed to be on my own and now, here I am." **I spread my arms out, showing my presence in the room.

Michael looked interested. I knew that he listened to every word, even though he did not say anything back.

**"It's funny how all of the people back at my old place couldn't hold a conversation, yet you don't even talk, and I just poured out a whole conversation feeling completely understood." **I commented as I shook my head at the irony.

Michael now understood why she was differemt from everybody else. Maybe that's part of the reason he didn't kill her. It also explains why she is so strong. Unlike others, she does not care what people think, or how they feel. She does what makes her happy. Even if it makes everybody else unhappy. She kicked him, and punched him in the sewers, while others ran, and screamed, or used weapons. Her thought process was different. She was her own kind in every possible way. She was absolutely beautiful.

**"You know Michael, being here, I haven't been this happy in well.. ever."** She added.

Michael felt his heart shed another layer of ice. She was slowly breaking down the shape. But he would not let her know it. She yawned again and began to close her eyes. This was his cue to get up.

I tried to stay awake, but I was failing miserably. Michael got up, and started to walk towards the wall by the door. Was he going to stand and watch me all night?

**"Michael, what are you doing? Aren't you going to sleep?"** I asked curiously.

He looked at me, then at his old childhood bed in the corner of the room. It was barely a twin size bed with dust, and old blue bed sheets wrinkled in a pile. The pillows had no pillow cases, and they looked frayed and yellow. Would he even fit in it? It has to be uncomfortable. It's even older than the bed in the sewers. He started to walk towards it. Then I stopped him. I don't know why I said this, or even thought it, but with out a warning, it came out.

**"Why don't you sleep here."** I called out, reaching my hand out for him to stop. He looked back at me with a shocked face. I held the same shocked expression as I realised what I just said.

**"It's just that, no offense, but your bed doesn't look to comfortable. And, I have alot of room over here." **I patted the bed and stared at the large empty space for him to lay. Then I felt embarressed by my act. **"I can clean your sheets, and scrub down your mattress tomorrow, if you would like?" **I recovered, trying to be less pathetic.

He looked at his bed, then back at mine. We exchanged glances, then he sat down, and started to put his feet up. He kept his boots on, which made me a little uncomfortable, but asking him to remove them would be strange. Asking him to remove anything infact, would be strange.

I felt awkward, but glad that he was more comfortable. Though he was a killer, I did not want him to sleep in that dusty mattress with springs coming out of the sides. If I'm going to take his room, I mine as well offer him my bed.

I smiled then sat up to turn the lights off. Before I did, I noticed that the door was open. I felt goose bumps rise on my arms. I looked at Michael and asked, **"Can I close the door?"**

He looked at me with question. I felt extremely immature as I explained.

**"Well, it's just that, ever since I was a little girl, I liked the door closed. I used to think that monsters were standing in the doorway. As I got older, I became used to the privacy." **Then I turned my head away and laughed, to hide my embarressed face.

He looked at me with surprise, then he looked down at himself laying on the bed. I guess he was right. He did kill people, and live through injuries. But did he think he was a monster? He couldn't have been. There was too much kindess shown to me. He looked and felt human. Though he might have lived through the immpossible. He is human.

I gave him a smile. **"Would you protect me from monsters?"**

He looked at me with serious eyes, and held his gaze. As if he was answering me.

**"Okay, good." **I said cheerfuly as I got up to shut the door. He put his hand out and pushed me back down on the bed by the neck. Though he touched a dangerous spot, he was very gentle. I guess he's getting there? He got up and shut the door, not trusting me to run out if I did it. While he passed me, he shut the lights out. I couldn't see anything. But I felt his weight on the bed as he layed down next to me. We had so much room inbetween us, even more than the sewers. It was the same amount of awkwardness as the night before, but this time, I felt a little more at ease. I listened to the sound of his breathing through his mask. It once chilled me, but now, it was becomming an everyday, daily sound. Such as birds chirping, or wind blowing. It brought me into a pleasant sleep.

Michael was stunned by Amys' remark about monsters standing in the doorway. He was considered the thing that lurked in the night on Halloween. Then when she asked him to protect her, he was filled with this new feeling. He never protected anyone, just killed. But he was overcome with this duty that he accepted. As he watched her sleep, he made a decision that he will protect her from anything. He has the power to kill, he will use it towards anyone that poses as a threat to her.

**There goes Chapeter 10! I'm on a roll! I have a few holes in the story. I need them filled inbetween the important chapters. So if anyone has any ideas that they want to see in this story, let me know. That would be great! I might be able to fit it in. You guys are the best! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Thank you for the reviews! This chapter is very interesting! I will use some of your ideas for the next upcoming chapters! Thank you for the ideas! Enjoy. **

Michael watched Amy sleep for hours. He could not fall asleep from the discomfort of being out of the sewers. Not to mention, being in her bed. He would rather have lied in his old bed, but his body told him to be near her. He just lied there and stared at her sleeping form. Watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed, and hearing the air escape her parted lips. He could watch her for days. He never really paid any attention to people, but she was so interesting to him. He liked to see her move when she walked, or ate. He liked her different face reactions. He even liked the feel of her skin. At first he touched her out of curiosity. Now he touched her out of pure need.

As he lied there, he thought about the changes she made him have while she was in his house. He looked around at the now "crowded" room, filled with her stuff. At first he was angry. It was his house. But now he realized that it meant she was staying here with him. Though, he gave her no choice either way. He wanted her to be more comfortable in his house.

The light started to show through the window. Immediately it shined on the photo album. He looked down and realized that she didn't finish showing him, so he continued to look while she slept. He turned the pages and saw christmas' and birthday's. Then he flipped the page and came across something that intrigued him. It was a picture of her in a skin tight black leather jumpsuit, with high healed boots. It was zipped open at the top, showing her cleavage. Her hips, and thighs were shown from the tightness of the material. Her hair was straight, and long. Black make up surrounded her eyes, making them look dark with a sadistic look in them. Her lips were a deep red. He was overcome with this wild feeling. Then he saw something that surprised him. She was holding a bloodied knife high, lifting it to the camera. She truly is evil! It set him off, making him feel seduced, and curious. He had to wake Amy up and ask her about this picture.

I was awoken by hands, harshly shaking my shoulder. I gasped, jumping up. I was not used to being woken up by anyone. I slept alone, and set my alarm by myself. The last time my mom woke me up was in 3rd grade. I turned to see Michael staring inquisitively at me with wide eyes. It was almost humorous.

**"What?" **I asked, letting out a sleepy laugh.

He shoved the photo album in my face and pointed to a picture. I moved my head away, and adjusted my eyes to see the picture more clearly.

It was a picture of me on halloween. I didn't really have an actual name for what I was that year. It was just a drunken night, dressed sexy/scary for a party. I became embarrassed that he saw the picture. I'm not the type to flaunt pictures of myself to boys. Especially pictures of my cleavage busting out of a zipper. I immediatly turned red, and looked away from the picture.

He caught my attention back by slamming his finger at something in the photo. I looked closer and saw the bloodied knife in my hand. Oh man, he must think I kill people also. It was actually hilarious. I prepared to explain myself.

**"Oh, that's just me on Halloween last year. I dressed in a suit, and carried a knife to look scary." **I explained, looking into his curious eyes as he listened.

Then he looked back at the knife with blood, and returned his eyes back to me, tilting his head to the side.

**"That's fake, with fake blood on it!" **I emphasized with a humorous smile on my face.

He lightened his expression, but still held question.

**"It was Halloween. I dressed up. I was trying to be... sexy." **I instantly wished that I didn't say that last part. I felt very awkward by the whole subject.

Michael looked at me for a moment, then looked back at the picture. His eyes stared at my body. Then he traced the picture with his finger, brushing the curves on my body. I was feeling very uncomfortable by this. But at the same time, I was flattered. Every part that he touched in the picture, I could almost feel on my skin. It left chills on the spots where his finger traced. He circled his finger around my cleavage. I breathed, trying to keep my sanity.

**"Um.. Thank you." **I whispered.

Suddenly, he looked at me, and traveled his eyes down to my chest. There was a wild look in his eyes. He began to bring his hand towards me, reaching for what he touched in the picture. I was brought back to life. I couldn't let this go on.

**"No touching. Remember?" **I snapped, pointing my finger at him.

He widened his eyes, then slowly returned his hand back to the bed. He gave me a warning look. But he still lowered his hand, accepting my request. He was trying so hard to be nice. Yet I could tell that his instincts were still in there, yelling for him to do what he wants.

I bit my lip playfully, and shook my head. **"What am I gonna do with you?" **

He stared blankly at me.

I sat up and yawned while stretching. I turned to look at the clock, 8:01am. I nearly jumped out of bed. Michael stared at me, holding me in the room.

**"Please let me go to work. I have to!" **I yelled frantically.

He stared at me with a calm expression, as if I was acting crazy for no reason. I looked at him for a few moments, then spoke, dumbfounded.

**"You're.. you're gonna let me go?" **I asked in disbelief.

He looked at the door casually, then back at me. I followed his stare, then sighed in relief.

**"Oh, thank you Michael!" **I exclaimed with a huge, thankful smile on my face.

I grabbed my clothes, and went straight into the bathroom, rushing to get ready. I brushed my teeth, then put my hair into a mid-high ponytail, leaving my side bang out. Then I applied black eye liner, and mascara, along with pink lipstick. I put on black work pants, and a white button up top with hot pink stripes. I went back into my room, and slipped on my black heels. I looked in the mirror and gave myself one last over view before I went to work. I seemed pretty professional, and mature. Good, just the type of look I was going for. I turned to face Michael, who was staring at me emotionless. Nothing new. But I could tell he was looking at my clothes, and make up.

**"Work attire." **I explained. He blinked back in response.

**"Again, thank you so much for this. I will come back after I get out. I'll be home around 6, I promise." **I said as I looked deep in his eyes, giving him assurance.

He stared back, accepting my promise. I gave him a nod in agreement, then smiled again. I walked to the door, and headed out. The air smelt fresh. It was filled with autumn leaves, and the chill of the wind, making the temperature perfect. It was truly beautiful this time of year, especially in this town.

When I got to work, all of my co-workers stared at me. It was obvious that they were talking about me while I was gone. They were probably coming up with theories for why I was absent for so long. The look they gave me while I walked to Mr. Bradleys' office told me, _"Ohh, she's gonna get it!" _It was absolutely immature for a work place. It made me feel like I was a student walking into the principles office.

Finally, I reached the door. I took a deep breath, then knocked twice. I waited for a moment then I heard him yell, **"Come in!" **I opened the door and walked into the office to see him sitting at his desk in a brown suit with a white under shirt, and a red tie. He was a middle aged man with grey hair. He was fit for his age. He smiled then gestured,** "Shut the door, come sit." **

I obeyed, quietly shutting the door and sitting down across the desk from him.

**"Now, Amy.." **I gulped, ready to hear a lecture.** "I know that you are usually very punctual with coming to work. But not showing up for days with out a call, that's just irresponsible." **

I felt so small, like I was a bug, being stepped on. It was not my fault, and I did not deserve this type of belittlement. But all I could do was interrupt him and say, **"I know."**

**"Listen, I don't want to have to do this but, I am going to keep this on record. You're a great worker, and I am glad to have you on our team. But if you do something like this again, I will have to fire you." **He said with authority.

I winced at that last part, and felt the pit of my stomach rise up into my throat. **"I know. I'm sorry Mr. Bradley. It won't happen again." **I said in a serious voice.

**"Alright, just get back to work, and continue like you were before." **He said encouragingly. But he still had a mean look on his face, even as he smiled.

I got up and walked to the door. **"Once again, thank you." **I said before opening it and walking back to my desk. Everybody was quiet, then started randomly talking to each other out of nowhere. It was obvious that they were trying to listen to the conversation in the office. I rolled my eyes and sat down, ignoring it.

Everybody here gets into each others' business, and gossips back and forth. I stayed away from it all. I hardly even know most of their names. I just go to work, do my job, and go home. I like to keep it professional. Getting involved with my workers might cause me to lose my job. Although, I'm having that problem all by myself anyway.

I started looking through my papers, organizing them, and cleaning out things that I did not need. A women from the corner of the office stood infront of me. She wore a purple suit dress, with short black hair. She had a full face, and was a little chubby.

**"Hi Amy." **She said cheerfully.

She looked so pleasant, I had to smile back. **"Hi." **I replied.

I couldn't remember her name, Rosey, I believe?

**"I heard you were sick. I hope your alright."** She said sympathetically.

**"Oh, I was just a little under the blue, I'm fine. Thank you." **I smiled.

**"Good. Can I use your stapler? I couldn't find mine I.." **She continued.

But my mind traveled to the window behind her. The leaves were flowing around in the wind. And an unmistakable white face immediately took my attention. A man was standing there next to a tree in a blue mechanics uniform wearing a white mask. I felt chills run down my spine, then I relaxed. _Michael_. I signed. He was staring at me, stalking me. He was making sure that I was at work, and didn't run away. I couldn't break my lock with Michael. I just stared back, seeing him in his "spooky stage". Now I can understand why people were so frightened of him. It was unnerving to see a man staring at you through a window. But I was not frightened. His presence was oddly familiar. I was more bothered that he would be there watching me any time he wants, with out me even knowing it.

**"Amy, are you okay?" **I suddenly snapped out of it, and looked at her.

**"Oh.. Yeah. I'm just a little disoriented from being sick. I'm okay." **I replied as I shook my head clear.

**"Okay good. Thank you for helping me out, I'll give it back to you when I'm done." **She said as she reached for the stapler, and walked back to her desk.

I looked back out the window, to see an empty space next to the tree. Michael was gone. He did it again. I stared out in complete bewilderment.

I could hear the women next to me speak low to the man beside her. **"She's really losing it. Something has to be going on. I heard that she moved." **

I drowned them out. It really wasn't important to me. Besides, all I could think about was Michael, and the things that have been happening between us. Though I said we were friends to survive, he was actually becoming my friend. I was creeped out that he was stalking me. But at the same time, it made my work day go by faster knowing that he came by to check up on me. I felt significant. I couldn't wait to get back home and see him.

**Okay, So tell me what you think. I don't really get into what Amys' job is. I don't think that it is very important. Lets' just call it an office job. lol. Also, the next chapter is going to be a little dark. Be prepared!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

**This chapter will have violence. If you got through the Halloween movies, then you can get through this. Thank you for the reviews! You guys are awesome! Enjoy. **

Michael was not okay with Amy going to work at first. But when she lied to Dr. Loomis, she gained his trust. Besides, if she went missing, he would find her easily. It may be a small town, but it is deserted from the rest of the city. She wouldn't get far. Though, he still had to check up on her and let her know that he would be watching.

After he checked up on Amy, he started to get hungry. He did not need to eat much, but it has been quite some time since his last meal. Once he was certain that Amy was okay at work, he started towards a local house nearby.

It was a small two level house. The backyard was big, surrounded by a wooden fence. He could hear a loud bark, with foot steps trotting around inside. The barking got louder and more violent as he got closer to the house. The dog sensed Michaels' presence, and the dangers that he brought. Once he got to the gate, the dog backed up and gave warning barks.

That didn't stop him. He broke open the lock, and opened the gate to find a German Shepard mix. It stared at him with defensive eyes, growling and snarling. Michael didn't care. He took a step closer as he stared down at the animal. By this time, the dog was showing its' teeth, shaking, ready to pounce. Once again, Michael didn't care.

Michael raised his knife. The dog stopped shaking, and lounged at him full force. Michael didn't fall, or even move. He just gripped onto the back of the dogs neck, and tore it off of him. The dog immediately turned its head and bit Michaels' hand down to the bone, drawing blood. He didn't even flinch. He raised his knife and brought it to the shepards throat in one quick thrust. A squeal came from the dogs mouth before its' body went limp and hung by Michaels' hand. Then he heard a car park in the front of the house. He took the dog, and hid into the shadows.

Claudia was excited to be home from break. She had an extra long hour to eat, and feed the dog. She sang her favorite song as she walked into the house. Her roommate was away, so she was alone. As she sang, she noticed that it was strangely quiet. Max usually barked from the yard, and jumped on the back door, trying to greet her.

**"Huh. That's strange." **She murmured.

She walked to the kitchen, and slid the back door open. Claudia poked her head out and looked around the whole yard, seeing nothing. She thought that he must have got out.

**"Max! Max!... Maxy!" **She called out to no reply.

She sighed heavily as she got ready to start looking for him. He always escaped, running to the neighbors, trying to play with their kids, and steal their food. It was no surprise. She calmly turned around to walk toward the front door. When she was facing the kitchen, she was traumatized by the sight infront of her. The dog was layed on the table, dead with blood dripping down to the floor. Teers welled up in her eyes, and she began to whimper, covering her mouth out of pure shock. When suddenly, a hand gripped over her chin, and pulled her in.

Michael slit her throat quickly, not wanting to cause a scene. He was satisfied by the game he played with her. It had been 2 years since he tortured Laurie, leading her into a room to find her friends bodies layed out. Although, this wasn't as important as that night.

Michael dropped her body, and walked to the talbe to eat his meal. Once he was done, he picked Claudia up, and layed her next to her pet dog. Then he walked out the back door silently.

I finally pulled into the driveway. Usually I hated coming home to my family. I thought that it wouldn't be as exciting because Michael still lives in the house. But for the first time, I was excited to have some ones company. I couldn't wait to walk through that door and talk to him.

I opened the door, and sprinted to the house. When I got in, I looked around to find nothing. He must be in the room.

**"Michael!" **I called out enthusiastically.

No answer, ofcourse. But he was still nowhere to be seen. A sharp pain of disappointment took over. I tried to push it out. I've never gotten lonely from a guys absence. I always found them annoying. It was better off that they were away from me. But I couldn't hide that I felt lonely. It was not a feeling that I liked. Infact I hated it.

He must have gone down to the sewers. Oh well, he'll come back. I shrugged and put my purse down on the floor as I walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat. After grabbing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I walked into the living room to sit down. I noticed that the voicemail was blinking red.

**"Oh my first message!"** I cried sarcastically as I walked to the phone and pressed the play button.

**"Hi, Amy. It's mom. Happy birthday!" **I huffed, rolling my eyes. Ofcourse, it's my birthday. Why else would she call unless its a holiday to celebrate? I forced myself to listen to the rest with out deleting it.

**"I just want to let you know that I'm coming over around 6:30. See you soon baby!" **She chimed.

My body stiffened. I looked at the clock. 6:23pm. Oh my god, I have to get ready!

I ran up the stairs, into the bathroom. I began to work on myself, taking of most of the black eye makeup, and replacing it with light pink. I lowered my ponytail all the way down. Then I rubbed off the lipstick and added a pale peach color. My mom always like her daughter to look natural, like a mini her. I buttoned up my shirt so that less of my cleavage was showing.

As I was making sure that I looked presentable, I heard the doorbell ring. I was shaking from being nervous. I gave myself one last look before heading down and answering the door.

I was greeted by my mother, looking as "Martha Stewart" as ever. She had khaki jeans on with clunky brown heels, and a flower dress shirt that was overly floofy, with ripples going down the front. I had to hold in a laugh at the sight.

**"Happy Birthday to you!" **she sang, representing a frosted cake infront of me.

**"Thanks mom." **I said warmly as I took the cake and walked her into the house.

She looked around the house in fascination.

**"Wow, this needs alot of work done." **She suggested as she looked at the cracks and peels in the wall and floors.

**"Yeah. It's been abandoned for quite sometime." **I claimed.

**"Well, with your decorating skills, you'll have this place looking like a whole new house in no time." **She added.

I was offended by what she said. This is Michaels' house. Not mine to mess with. But she didn't know that. I looked around the house, and came to the realization that it was imperfectly beautiful. There is nothing that I want to change.

**"Actually, I like it the way it is. I think I'm going to leave it." **I said more to myself, than to her.

**"Okay, Amy. Whatever." **She laughed, not taking me seriously.

I just ignored her and walked into the kitchen. I cut the cake and put two pieces on small plates. As I walked into the dining room, I noticed her eyeing the dining room table.

**"Oh my goodness! This is beautiful! Where did you get this?"** She exclaimed.

With out even thinking I said, **"Oh, it's Michaels'." **

Her face light up. **"Who?" **She asked impatiently.

**"He was the previous owner." **I said flatly, covering up my slip.

**"Oh." **Disappiontment swept over her face.** "I thought you met a boy." **She spat.

I pushed away the bile of anger that overcame, usually when my mother was around. I put the cake down and started to eat, waiting for the subject to change. She sat down, and started to eat also.

It was quiet for quite sometime. Then my mom started a conversation.

**"So you know, Carline is setting a date for her wedding. It should be sometime next year." **She bragged about her younger daughter. I personally thought she was too young to get married.

My little sister could do way better than the guy she was was settling with. I just put on a happy smile and nodded in agreement. **"Yeah." **I added.

**"You know who else is getting married?" **She looked in my eyes, searching for something.

**"Who?" **I asked, uninterested.

**"Tyler." **She said with enthusiasm.

I did not reply. I didn't care. I just nodded and smiled politely. **"Oh, that's great."** I added.

**"I saw him in the grocery store the other day, and he gave me an invitation. He asked about you." **She searched my eyes again, waiting for some kind of sign.

I didn't show anything, I just shrugged my shoulders and replied. **"How nice." **

She looked annoyed by my response.** "You know that could have been you."** She snorted.

Okay, so the subject didn't go the right way I wanted it to. Now I felt numb to the core. I was literally shaking.

**"Mom." **I warned.

My reaction was unnoticed. She just kept going with the subject.

**"You know, this is a big house. Great for a family. Why do you live alone?" **She harassed.

**"Stop."**I said calmly, trying to hide my furiated expression.

She went on and on about what she wanted. As her nagging continued I saw a white mask start to appear from the shadows behind my mother. I went cold. I noticed the knife gleaming in his hand, ready to stab her. My mom was bothering me, but that didn't mean I wanted her dead.

I looked at him with a frantic expression. He returned his gaze at me. I shook my head quickly, trying to be unnoticed by my mother. He continued to stare at me.

_"No." _I mouthed.

He paused for a moment, then started to fade back into the shadows.

When Michael entered the house, he felt an uninvited presence. Someone he didn't know was in the house. He looked into the dining room and saw a familiar women talking to Amy. He looked closer and identified her as Amys' mom. He recalled seeing her picture in the photo album. Amy didn't look too happy. This women was making her upset, which made him angry. He would take of her.

As he got closer, he noticed Amys' refusal. He remembered her asking him not to kill infront of her, and then understood. He slowly went back into the shadows, abiding her request.

A sign of relief escaped my lips as I looked back at my mom. She was staring at me questionably.

**"You know, being this alone is going to make you crazy. You need a boyfriend. I should hook you up with.." **

**"Mom!" **I exclaimed. She still ranted.

**"I want what's best for my daughters'. Look how happy your sister is. Why can't you be like that?" **

**"That's it!" **I slammed my hands of the table and stood up. **"I do not need anybody to be happy. I am happy alone. If there's anyone you should be proud of, it's me! I am in my early twenties, and I'm living on my own with a great job! "** I bragged.

She looked at me with a surprised expression. **"Amy, I just want you to be a normal women." **She suggested.

**"Get out!" **I said with no emotion.

She had a confused, hurt look on her face. She was delusional. **"Amy, I.."**

**"Get out!" **I yelled.

I was shaking uncontrollably with anger. At this point, I didn't care if Michael was watching, or if he came out and my mom saw. I was too wrapped up with my family drama, that it didn't matter. My mom looked at me with teers welling up. She sat up and limped to the door, crying.

It was so typical of her to show up on a holiday, and invade my life with criticism. I slammed the door behind her and stomped up the stairs straight to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror at the pitiful view of myself. The pink eye shadow, the neutral lipstick, the sleek ponytail. It was sickening. I looked like a baby doll. My moms perfect image of a perfect proper daughter. It was disgusting.

I took the hair dryer and threw it into the mirror at myself, shattering half of it to pieces. I had to get rid of that stupid looking girl. I ripped the ponytail out, letting my hair out wildly. I rubbed the pink barbie makeup off in a quick frenzied pace. Then I ripped my shirt open, letting 3 buttons fall out. When I looked in part of the mirror that didn't shatter, I thought I would be satisfied. But I wasn't. I still saw a girl who was uncertain enough to change her view, just to impress her mother.

I got even angrier, throwing my hand back into a fist, ready to punch the rest of the mirror into pieces, off the wall. My hand was halfway to the mirror when it came to a complete stop. I gasped and looked up. Michael was holding my fist, clasping his fingers around my hand.

**Okay, so this chapter was a bit dark. But next chapter will be full of fluff! Tell me what you think about this chapter. And I will use some of your ideas in the next chapter. Not exact, but close to it. Thank you for the ideas! **


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

**Okay, as I promised, this chapter will be less dark than the other. Infact, quite the opposite. I hope you're ready! Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. And sorry for the long absence. I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

Michael stared at me blankly as he held my fist still. Though he showed no emotion, I could feel his concern. I loosened my fist, but he held on, staring cautiously into my eyes. He must think I'm crazy. What kind of girl throws a fit, punching a mirror? I was still too heated up to be embarressed. But as I calmed down, I felt a little awkward about my "temper" showing infront of him.

Michael was very angry that Amy's mother made her so upset. If it was up to him, he would kill her. Seeing Amy looking at herself in the mirror with such hate, and rage, made him believe that she might have killed her mother herself if she did not leave. How did she have so much will power to stop? He could never have stopped the rage once it started. She was about to hurt herself when he came into the bathroom. It made him furious that she looked at herself that way. She was not the one who should be harmed.

I looked up at him with emotional eyes. **"Thank you." **I said calmly.

He loosened his hand from my fist. But before he let go, I noticed a trail of blood running down his hand. I instantly grabbed his wrist and pulled it to get a better look. He was surprised by my contact, but I ignored it, feeling more concerned than scared. As I looked closer, I saw puncture wounds going down his hand. They were deep, and open. It was a wonder how he could move his hand. I looked up at the very shocked Michael and said casually, **"Dog bite?.. Must have been a fighter." **

Michael didn't look amused by my comment, He just stared at me seriously. It was funny, atleast the dog tried. I looked back at the wound and cringed.

**"Here, let me clean it for you." **

I looked at his face for approval as I held his hand in both of mine. He didn't show any negative signs. He just stared at my hands around his, in wonder. I brought it lower towards the sink. Once it was directly the water, he started to pull away.

**"It's okay. It's just water." **I assured in a nice voice, keeping his hand there.

He looked into my eyes, and relaxed, letting himself get used to the water. I pumped soap, then started rubbing it. I used my fingers to massage his hand, being very careful around the wounds. It wasn't until I quickly laced my fingers around his, that I noticed how intimate our contact was. I quickly let go, and scrubbed as distant as I could, only touching the areas that had blood on it. I looked up to see a surprised, yet peaceful look in his eyes as he stared down at our hands.

Once all the blood went down the drain and his cut looked clean, I took his hand in a towel, and carefully patted it down. Then I pulled it closer to my face to get one more look. I looked up and him and asked,** "Can you move your fingers?" **

He stared down and clasped his hands into a fist, then released. I stared in amazement.

**"You know if I punched that mirror, I would probably not be able to do that. And your hand is much worse than what mine would have been." **I claimed.

He stared at me emotionless. I looked over his body in search of other wounds that he received. His hands were scratched up with scars and scrapes. His eye lid had a tiny scar. I could see a tiny puncture wound underneath his mask, on his neck. It looked like a needle. It was in an area that would kill a man, especially considering how deep it was impaled. Now, it was layers of hard skin that formed a deep scar.

**"Wow." **I whispered.

Curiosity got the best of me, I didn't even think before I started moving my hand towards him. Once I got to his neck, and my finger grazed his mask, he immediately jerked away, giving me a death stare.

I jumped back and froze from his reaction. Oh, wow. I never noticed how protective he was over his mask. He was looking at me hard, trying to scare me. It was unnerving, but a very reckless side of me found it challenging.

I raised my eye brow, and gave him a stern look. He looked back serious. I took my hand and reached for his mask, and he jerked back again. This time with a stunned look on his face as if he didn't know whether to stab me or walk away. I walked closer to him then pushed him playfully.

His eyes grew wide at my sudden action. I smirked and giggled. **"Wow, didn't know you were so defensive, Michael."** I accused.

He looked at me with question. I gave him an amused expression.

**"Come and get me." **I teased, biting my lip.

He started for a moment in confusion, then his eyes turned amused. He understood. I ran passed him, heading down towards the stairs. I could feel his absence, giving me a head start. I nearly tripped down the third step stubbing my toe, murmuring, **"Shit!" **out loud, followed by a chuckle. when I got to the dining room, I turned. Michael was not in sight. Huh? How odd.

I turned to run in the living room, when Michaels' hands gripped around my stomach, turning me to face him. I screamed at the sudden contact, then giggled when I looked into his eyes. He started to step closer to me. Then I smiled and said, **"Oh, no you don't!" **Lifting my leg in between us, and kicking him away from me by his chest. He flung 5 feet away, crashing into the wall. His eyes grew darker, as he stepped closer, charging at me.

I ran passed him and ducked under his arm, running towards the kitchen, while squealing excitingly. After running around the house for a while, I noticed that he was missing again. Where did he go? I was In the hallway by the front door, looking around for him. The house was oddly quiet. I could hear the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Suddenly I heard his breathing right behind me. I froze, waiting for him to make his move. But he didn't. He was just teasing me, waiting to scare me unexpectedly.

Finally, he ended my anticipation and grabbed my waist. I screamed at the touch, and ran away towards the stairs giggling excessively. When I got to the stairs, and touched the railing, he grabbed my wrist and turned me over. I tried to push him away with my leg, but I ended up tripping him, causing him to fall ontop of me. He fell forward, making me land on my back. My head almost hit the step, when his hand caught me, shielding my skull. I heard crack from his hand, but he didn't seem to be effected. We stared at each other with a startled expression, paralyzed still.

There I was, lying underneath the shape. Him lying ontop of me, with his whole body putting pressure on mine. But the most remarkable thing was his hand on the back of my head. And his mask, just an inch away from my face.

I had nothing else to stare at but his dark orbs, that were hypnotizing. They looked so deep, so.. beautiful. They stared at me like I was some sort of prize, or significance. My breathing was uneven, and slow. I didn't have the nagging side of reason, telling me what was right, or what was wrong. Nothing else mattered, but this moment. My instincts took over, and I let myself give in.

I kept my eyes open, holding him still, watching him closely with need. Then without even trying, my head started to come up, closer and closer to him until everything in the room became blurry except for his eyes. Our noses touched, we both slowly closed our eyes at the feeling. Then I pressed my lips against his masked lips lightly, holding it there for a few seconds.

My whole body shook with butterflies. It felt like we were floating above the floor. Nothing could have ruined this, or made me more happy. I lifted my head, pushing my lips harder against his. At first he froze, but surprisingly, he relaxed and pressed his lips against mine, returning the kiss. It was shy, and uncertain, but strong.

Michael felt dazed as he lied ontop of her, and looked into her eyes. He had never been this close to her. It was intoxicating. When she brought her face closer to him, he thought he would loose control. But all he could do was lay there still, and wait for her to make her move. When her lips touched his, he felt a wave of life pour over him. For the first time, he felt alive. He didn't know what to do, but when she pushed closer, he had the need to push closer back. After a few seconds, they became so overwhelmed, they needed a break. They let go slowly. Amy lowered her head back to his hand. Michael stared at her in amazement.

I set my head back, looking into his eyes with shock. I couldn't hide it anymore. I liked it. I liked the kiss, and I liked being around him. I felt something for him. Though I did not know what it was. We stared into each others' eyes for a long time, just mesmerizing one another.

It became so overpowering that I had to close my eyes and lean in for another kiss. This time he wasn't timid. I could feel his lips pressing against mine through the mask. My heart fluttered, and I became dizzy. I gasped for air and laid back down. We both just stared into each others' eyes, breathing heavily.

Then he stared down at my mouth and began to trace my lips with his thumb. As if he was feeling with his hand, what he couldn't feel through the mask. A sharp pinch of disappointment hit me. I looked at his masked lips, then back at him.

**"Will I ever get to see?"** I asked doubtfully.

His eyes became hard, and he didn't respond. He lifted his body off of mine, and I immediatly felt the empty space form between us. He obviously was too touchy about showing his real face. The mask was his face for years. It was not something that I could get offended by. But I still felt a little discouraged. I sighed sadly, but nodded, starting up at him as I still layed on the floor.

**"Okay." **I said, understanding.

I picked myself up off the floor, and stumbled, still being high from what just happened. Also feeling sore from the fall, and the hard stairs on my back. Michael watched me, showing no other emotion except content. Though he wasn't easy to read, I knew that he was feeling the same thing that I was. It was like the air between us was on fire. I stared shyly at him, and looked away nervously when it got too awkward. This kiss changed everything.

**Okay guys, this is what you wanted! Things have finally started. Thank you for the ideas. I love reading your reviews. Hope you guys are getting into the Halloween spirit, now that fall is here! Let me know what you think of this chapter. **


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